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