Are even bigger than my wide-open eyes.
Finally my vigil pays off; it begins to snow.
Still I sit and watch’ it is so dark now I can’t
Tell if it’s snowing. Only the streetlight outside
My window shows that it is. Yes, now the sidewalk
And trees, and even the trolley tracks are sporting
A sparkling diamond coat.
The world is wonderfully white and peaceful.
Snow is the great equalizer: my city street is
As beautiful as my uncle’s farm.
I hear Daddy’s car crunch over the snow and turn
Into the driveway; I see the snow still falling
In his headlights. How can I wait till tomorrow
To try out the Flexible Flyer that Santa brought
Just last week?
“Pat, Bon, Rob, Nancy, time for dinner,” Mom calls,
As I peel myself off the armchair. Though
I can’t see it now, I know it is still snowing.
First snow.
“Oh, yeah,” you say to me. “That’s a real nice
Little story, but when you have to put up with it
For four months out of the year,
Well that’s a horse of a different color.”
“Okay, let me explain a little more,” I replied.
“Every winter we come up from Florida for Christmas,
Hoping, praying that it’ll snow, and we
Haven’t been disappointed yet. It only
Snows once, but it satisfies us. So, you see,
Each snow is our first snow.”
By Nancy (hhnancy@verizon.net)
