I'm sure I needn't tell you that we're not having snow here in Ohio ... quite the contrary, temperature-wise. Still, it does provide something to think about, a certain kind of relief from these blazing summer days.
And "First Snow" happens to be one of my favorite poems ... along with "Hollyhocks," "Chance of Rain" ... and a few others.
But I digress.
I don't know exactly which hillside Grandma and I were on. I don't know where we were going. Memories become blurred as to certain details.
I do remember the moment, though, when a sudden swirl of huge, fluffy snowflakes descended on us. They were, indeed, like flying feathers.
I hadn't seen anything like them in my whole young life.
The poem:
FIRST SNOW
I watch them
sliding slowly
on my windowpane,
harbingers
come to warn me
of impending winter,
stirring again
that memory
of plucked feathers,
as she called them,
swiftly enveloping
Grandma and me
on a hillside path.
I can still taste
that delicious
melting cold,
still hear her
laughing with me,
that great
explosion of joy.
© 2005
("First Snow" received a first-place award in a Poets' Study Club contest, was later published in The Christian Science Monitor, and became part of Wood Smoke, my third collection, issued by Finishing Line Press)
Today's word: harbingers
1 comment:
Not enough people know Southern IL and that it doesn't snow frequently. We're 350 miles south of Chicago, 100 miles south of St. Louis and Louisvill, KY.
There is no feeling like going to bed without snow and waking up to your world covered with a clean white blanket all around. We'll forget the memory of the slush the following day, or maybe even that day.
Your picture is great! I love it! I alway love your poetry...come to think of it, I always do your paintings and photos, as well.
Thanks! Helen in FL
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