Best Sportssnow Poems
I awoke this morning to find a foot and half of snow all around covering the ground. I
quickly got dressed wearing several layers of clothes. Plus a winter mask to protect my ears
and nose. Snow equals very cold weather. I thought about you, wishing you were here with
me - us together. Yes us together to act silly in this snow so white, and to run from each
other having a snow ball fight. I made sure I grabbed my I-phone and then slipped my
gloves on.
So bright was the pure white snow. I'm just glad the wind didn't blow. I was ready to
begin. I would keep my promise to Charma and build her a snowman.
First you start with a single snowball. The size of a big softball. Not too small. Then
you place it on the ground rolling it around; rolling it end over end. I was determined to
build this snowman for my friend. Round and around on the ground, bigger picking up more
and more snow. Building snowmen you can never out grow. Bigger and bigger it gets until it
is as round and high as a tree. Three giant snowballs for his body you have to admire. I
stacked his giant round snowballs on top of the other which were quite heavy. I managed by
myself which wasn't easy.
Your snowman wasn't complete. I wanted to make him so real like he had a "heart
beat." I went around to my back yard to find a fallen tree limb. I had to have arms for him!
After I put both stick-arms on either side; I returned back inside because there were other
things that must be applied.
Continued in Pt 2
Note: Here's Pt 1 of your snowman poem Charma:)
Yes, I know, I should be alongside.
Age and bad knees
dictate that I am inside the cab
with a long, green leash
so Katie can run close by
every morning,
for the last seven years
in rain, snow and sunshine.
She runs in earnest ( can a dog do that ? )
Her tongue is back against her cheek.
Her ears scan and sweep
and swivel around
left and right
listening for something ahead
or behind
as she gallops, trots,
saunters, paces
at my side.
Sometimes in the dark,
sometimes, just as the sun is coming up,
but always in the morning,
when the smells
of the deer and elk
are still fresh in the grass
and the berry bushes
along the fence.
I love to see her run. I love to hear her run.
I can hear the jangle jangle of her tags and her collar --
her leathery, black ears flapping against her head.
her breathing and sometimes
a snort or puff as her strong, wide paws hit their mark
ker-plop, ker-plop.
Nails dig into the ground
little wisps of grass and dirt, flying.
Now, her ears are back over her head and
the leathery tips almost touch
as her back legs push
like a rabbits
working in time
driving her faster.
When the snow is here
her feet beat their rhythm
in the icy white stuff.
Crunch, crunch, crunch,
the first marks in the snow,
and maybe -- the
marks, in line with the truck's tracks,
there
the next morning.
When she stretches all the way out
in a full run, her tongue is out --
far out of her mouth,
almost lashing against
her cheek.
Her strong back legs
the rounded, hard muscle under the shiny, black coat,
push her along
and I wonder
how all those legs and feet work
in synchronization
as she concentrates on her task
or has her eye
on something ahead
that she has got to get to
now!