Winter Imaginings

There is something magical about a fresh snowfall.

 Standing out on the front porch looking at the neighborhood blanketed with a cool crisp look, I am taken back to the winters of my youth.  Sledding, ice skating, cold red cheeks and warm mittens.  How many hours were spent building snow forts and snowmen, while freezing my toes and feeling the flakes land delicately on my face.  

A new snow seems to be a time when anything is possible.  I was able to conjure up an old photo or myself at seven years old with my cat Maverick.  I really was a child once.  It wasn't so very long ago - in my mind at least.

That photo sent me digging for a poem I wrote a couple years ago that I wanted to share.

Snowfall

  

I stepped on the snow

what a wonderful feel

it crackled and popped

with a wintry thrill.

Above and around

the snow circled and fell

it coated the branches

the porch and the well.

The ice from the storm

glittered bright on the trees

I knew I should hurry

or my nose it would freeze.

But the world was now silent

a beautiful white

and the sight of the cardinal

filled me with such delight.

The flakes swirled and dipped

and skittered ahead

for a moment I pictured me

on that old sled.

With visions of ice skates

and scenes from my past

I stepped on the snow

and  fell flat on my ass.

Whatever your age I hope that you are finding magic in a world covered in white.  Stay warm!