Sunday, April 06, 2014

F is for First Snow

This year, I am grateful every moment for spring, the first forsythia blooming, the first hint of green on willows. But somehow as I caught up on downloading images from my camera, these photos of a memorable walk last winter in Manito Park linked to the A to Z Challenge (for me, a poem a day), all I could think of was:

First Snow

Our fingers crisp with cold,
we walked through the park,
our footprints, trajectories of hope
on iced pond,
the park bench bare,
shrubs along the path, ethereal,
delicate, etched with pure white.

Further along, we walked
Past a double column of elms,
their branches bare against the sky.


We followed the path under a weathered stone bridge,
sheltered for a moment from winter’s wind,
the path ahead, slick with ice,
as if last year’s long winter were a memory,
as if we could not remember when the darkness began. 


Read what others have written for the A to Z Challenge here.