Snow Hills Poem by Kevin Patrick

To Children, its an oasis
born out of imagination
The Snow pile
Behind the old strip mall
Isnt a cold wreckage of winter
paralyzing the parking lot
Its a country free of adulthood
where only dreams are king


It is a baby Everest
Materializing from frost squalls
luring Jr Mountaineers
To Scale its colossal one story summit
Tiny Bootes and salopettes
Digging through thick layers
of Sleet sheaved bedrock
In their Backyard Himalayas



They are hard pilgrims
confident and shoulder strapped
Burying their mittens
Into the ruffled walls of snow
Over uneven Mounds
and sharp peaks like shark fins
jagged ridges and happy challenges
which make the thrill the goal


Nothing stands in their way
Not parents or dusk
Even the cold burning their lungs
Is just a minor irritation
Only the peaks, that their little hearts seak
Is the terminal rush
of treading the pearl clay slush



Its when you stand over the top
You meet a truce of bliss
like kissing the raspberry sky
thats saying goodbye to yesterdays son
All around you can see the world at your fingers
malls, flats and churches are just blocks
while miles of cars run like insects
For one glorious moment
the roof of the world
is standing below you
and just for a minute
Heaven wraps you in full view
Now I watch with a weight of sadness
heavier then a blizzard
As I watch that childhood slipaway
in memories rear view mirror
as the miles and distance of yesterday
grow further and further like a sinking ship
Or snowflakes melting life away