Snow Cream

Snow Cream

Before we poisoned the rain,
I would headlong rush
into fresh fallen snow,
carrying sugar and cream.

Mixing shades of white
in my home-knit mitten,
I would feast on sweet
and ruin my dinner.

Now I send my grandchildren outside
only when suited up like astronauts
to explore a subzero landscape
that infects and irradiates

those who will never know
the taste of melting snow.


No decent snow yet in my part of North Carolina, just a few flakes that didn’t stick. Maybe this poem will encourage winter to visit.

It also appears in my Milkshakes and Chilidogs chapbook.

 

This entry was posted in Ephemera. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Snow Cream

  1. Lisa Tomey says:

    Brings back sweet memories.

    Liked by 1 person

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