Snow Poem by jimmy blass

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!