First Snow in Angel Garden
First Snow
On journey home,
prediction of squalls,
as temperature drops with the sun.
Heart jumps!, the first snow!
Rush to door, key turns,
quick kiss on back of hand,
the first snow!
Flick on garden light;
wait for large, white puffs
from an early storm to settle
on grass still green.
Flakes will find a place
among last bloom of rose;
bright nicotianna, innocent of season;
late crythansemum, whose burgundy
petals surround a golden heart.
Mind wanders on early winds;
childhood winters filled with snow.
Sled drawn with sturdy rope,
follows like a puppy to hill
that drops from overpass.
Scale heights to fly
through hole cut in fence.
Sparks ignite along runners;
zip across a small pond,
hope for frozen surface.
Over and over we ascend
and take flight.
Sun long set, by street light
we wind our way home;
covered in frost and ice,
half snow creatures, cold
beyond belief, near collapse,
as artic explorers on tundra
searching for shelter.
Warm glow of fire dries
mittens, hats, scarves, boots,
socks and layers of clothing;
settle under thick quilts,
as snow resumes falling,
through the night, to refresh
our winter playground.
Lainie Senechal
