Snow Day

If I knew how to paint 
I think I’d know how a painter feels in front of an empty canvass.
Fluffing the bristles and imagining what is about to happen.  

My empty canvass is a field, 
freshly blanketed with 11 inches of spring snow 
so wet you could wring it out like a wash cloth.

I know its 11 inches.  I measured
I know it’s soggy.  I shoveled.

I know how the artist must feel.

A sculptor uncovers what’s hidden in stone.
A painter fills empty space with cobalt blue 
and burnt-umber beauty.
My kids and I will turn this blank canvass
into a snow fort, a snowman family 
and a half dozen snow angels.  

Then it will be time for cocoa 
with marshmallows, like tiny snowballs, melting too soon. 

It’s a snow day and oh, the possibilities.

Jeff Hildebrandt  © 2005
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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