A Snow Memory
When I think about
what it was like
playing in the snow as a kid,
I recall that cold
icy blanket crisp-crunching
beneath my big boots.
Mom would bundle me up
in my immobile snowsuit
as if there were tigers in the snow
ready to attack me.
I looked more like a space man
than a kid.
I had to roll my snowballs
with one hand
until they were gigantic
enough that I could finish
with both hands...
I just couldn’t get my arms together
in that padded suit.
My snowpeople were always taller than me;
someone always had to help me
to put the head on them.
You know, it might’ve
been fun to ride a tiger
through that snow
but we lived in the ‘burbs;
no tigers
just lots of white fluff.
It sure would’ve been great
to have tigers hitched to my sled,
pulling me up that long hill.
They could’ve run and played
while I rode back down.
I wonder if Santa Claus
ever considered
how much faster
his sleigh could go
with tigers?
Although,
I suppose if
he has to go down chimneys,
flying reindeer
are more practical.
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