Early Snow

It snowed last night, two inches.
Should make Black Friday driving
interesting, to say the least.
The snow sounds like hands on Styrofoam
beneath my mucking-boots.
Green and browns wisps of grass
poke through the white wetness.
Faded color from leap piles
shows itself here and there.

Bob Stratton wears an orange vest,
walks across his big field,
shotgun in hand, looking to land
the big ten-pointer he saw
on his trail camera.

Kids mar the white carpet,
hucking snowballs at each other.
Can’t blame ‘em for that!

Cracklin’ ice breaks beneath
my foot-steps as I walk along,
as fun to break now as in childhood.
Air is crisp, cool, refreshing to the lungs.
Most stay inside today, but
not me. I long for this.
Visions of ski season to come,
of Christmas decorations that
Have been for sale since August.
Of the wood fire I’ll start
When I get home.
And hot chocolate too.
If you’re going to do winter,
you got to do it proper.
Even if, technically, it is still fall.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace