Snow, a sprinkling
No, more a dusting
No, a bit more
It's pretty
Snow in the northern climes
Greeted with joy to groans
The first of the season
Groans for the mess
Joy for the sights
To understand snow
We must to children's minds return
The coolness on the stuck-out tongue
The bite of blowing flakes on cheek
The southern latitudes
Have this great luck
No Snow to chastise or subdue.
Those who walk through open doors
And leave them so
Have not had white flakes
Blown in behind their passage
To stomp boots
Before coming inside
Or watch the clumps sizzle
And disappear on the stove-top,
Or fall into a cushion of white,
Or push the shovel along the sidewalk,
Or wade through drifts as high as your hips
And wish you had snowshoes like
Those who lived on the shores of
Gitche Gumee
To trudge through a virgin snowfall
Feeling like Admiral Perry of the North
Sliding down any available incline
On sled or ski
The first real snow
Makes puppies of grizzled old dogs
Damn the tracks on the carpet
IT"S SNOWING!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Indeed it is snowing, yes, not in your country alone but mine too, ha! it is snowing in my life as well. i love your simple but candid and clear description of nature. You are good, keep it up!