Winters Fantasies Poem by Ian (John) McCleary (Son of the Cleric)

The trees were sugarcoated with snow. When the snowflakes fall, a taste of candy coats my mouth, something sweet you can take a bite out of, something like dried up maple syrup collecting around the plastic cap of the syrup bottle.
But whenever the man with the salt truck touches it
The taste of that sugary snow becomes like vomit.
Gray slush covered in dirty tire marks send away the Sugarplum fairies to their winterberry huts.