The weather forecast earlier this week was for snow here in Southern Illinois this weekend. However, that prediction has changed to say we’ll probably see only a few flakes. That’s good. But that forecast reminded me of a poem I wrote several years ago. And since it still perfectly describes my ambivalence with regard to snow, I thought I’d share it today, as we wait to see what will actually fall from the sky this weekend.
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SNOWCHILD
When I was a child, I thought as a child,
And snow was a thing so delightful.
From school we were free; we got wet to the knees,
And our mom’s day was thrown all off schedule.
But now that I’m grown, I must do on my own
All the chores Mom and Dad used to dread:
Stock up food by the loads, drive on slippery roads,
Shovel snow, and repair that old sled.
Now I look with dismay at the skies leaden gray
As I trudge to the store for supplies.
De-icer and salt sell out fast with no halt.
I need new boots to tread on the ice.
The wind from the north is bitter and harsh,
But my temperature, still it is rising;
I am in a foul mood, for I see nothing good
That can come from a snowstorm arriving.
But then the flakes start, and I feel in my heart –
Watching white, fluffy, wonderful, wild
Filling all of my world with such beauty unfurled –
That in truth I am still just a child!
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