I can still smell the snowmelt
After all these years
A childhood beckons, tugs
My memory opens and embraces
Soggy grass
Puddles in the street
Wet shoes
Stuffed with newspaper
Atop the radiator by the backdoor
Tags: family life, Nature, poetry
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In a dim light... 
February 23, 2021 at 11:30 am |
Wonderful childhood memories of wet snow, delivered with the tactile selection of soggy grass and puddles, and then the wet shoes, stuffed with newspaper, but the last line brings it all back home. Really lovely Tom.
February 23, 2021 at 7:02 pm |
Thank you, Teri.
I often worry about these impulse notions that fly by much too quickly only to be grabbed by the ankle and put on paper. More emotion than rigor. But, nevertheless.
February 24, 2021 at 4:22 am |
The impulse notions that as you say, are grabbed by the ankle, are shouting to be said and without editing or addition, they are as they are, quite wonderful.