I woke, icicles frozen to the window pane
melting as I looked out; Snow, drifts deep
on the lawn. Still crunching my toast
chilled toes wriggled into damp wellies,
school cap askew, I slam the back door-
Sinking to my bare knees, I stumble to the gate.
Along the school lane, boys snowballed
shouted and slid. At Auntie’s house I stopped,
my eyes seeking the upstairs window-
In that room, last night, another sister
new born, lay. Encore, no fraternal
frolics for’ dained, for me to play.
Copyright © Brian Strand