January 21, 2008



piled on naked branches
snow, white and filled with promise
teetering thick in the windless morning
invisible ice sloughing off the pane
over my cheeks, making my eyes water
with reflected delight

voice from above and the world rattles,
two feet dangle off the top bunk
mismatched woolen socks left on
from a predawn newspaper march
"I bet it's five inches"

through my eager breath I see Tryon Street
at the bottom of our hill
fresh dirt and sand fanned in great arcs
one pair of cautious tire tracks
grinding off toward town
a motionless river frozen
between its plow-shoved banks

we bound like bones tossed
down wooden stairs
electric air flows past us,
the smell of blankets ironed too hot
we slide to rest on matted carpet
cushioned thick with old dog hair

power on
dial tuned
breath held
list read
school closed
snow day

One of my writing goals for 2008 is to write at least one light verse or poem every week in addition to my haiku wednesday and fiction friday posts. I will try to do this on Mondays.


bluesugarpoet said...

i love snow days - i loved them even more when i was a teacher.

WriterKat said...

That is beautiful. Definitely brings me back..