Day 22 Sound Poem: Boots crunching in the snow and memories of childhood

Childhood Snows

Galoshes over plastic bags over shoes,

we crunch through the snow,

pull our sleds up the street,

candles in pockets to wax runners

so we could fly back down.

Throw snow balls at the plow

as it ruins our course,

run into the woods

when the driver stops.

Stomp down the snow,

make a new run--

watch out for trees,

turn fast at the creek.

Spend the whole day outside,

only go in when our mothers call.

Fingers and toes tingle and sting.

Hot chocolate after warm bath.

Hope that the snow doesn’t melt away.