6:58
19 and my first snow day
schooless and awake.
a bagel to those gorgeous fat flakes
just one more ideal for this island.
emails sent
to brag.
10:15
Despite flicking lights
of threatening power-outs
a phone call to my sister
12 hours away and
laughing at -37.
10:55
One walrus jacket over a hoodie and my mittens-clashing-toque
as i venture out of residentia.
20-something sons shoveling, sweats and baseball teed
in this plowless city.
It's been a while & i hate to admit
but turns out
i was missing this.
Two whole clerks man the Fairway
and I start home, a litre of skim in my satchel.
Even clumps fall graceful as flakes here,
i turn into them, blown from the trees,
open my mouth. Caught.
Trace my checkered steps, unmashed and precise,
up the hill. My all-protected Vans
soaked, my jeans wet past the knees.
11:50
Home and I strip.
Snow bits flying, legs just-slapped pink and post-cold itchy.
Now I'm warm and
outside it smells like
fucking Christmas in November
and I
want to write again.
Author notes
i'm happy, do you get that i'm happy?
Comments
-
This is excellent. As usually, you are language's master. Yay you!
-
I don't how to approach this poem particularly. I think it's probably too much school and formal workshopping, but I can't look at this without finding nit-picking things that I'm sure you really don't care about.
I like the stark use of "Caught." It is so "caught", itself, on the end of the line. I like the caesura there.
My other favourite part of this poem is the exact image of this line:
"Snow bits flying, legs just-slapped pink and post-cold itchy."
Wonderful!
- Ruth
-
i love the snow,
especially when it ment i was able to get off work early and miss a day of school...
i thought this poem did a really good job of expressing the happiness caused by this unexpected vacation.
~Clare -
You get three applauses. I am so happy that you are writing. Not so impressed with your cancelled classes though...that makes me a tad ANGRY. But I got my threadless shirt, which makes me happier. Anyway, enjoy your snowday off from school. (Imagine if we got days off everytime it snowed here...)
Oh right...you wrote a poem. Here are my favourite lines/parts:
"in this plowless city"
"It's been a while & i hate to admit
but turns out
i was missing this"
"and
outside it smells like
fucking Christmas in November"
Yay Anne. See you soon!
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