Remembered Winter

Vintage Words


The snow shovel always got me

in the shin or under the arm pit.

I was so little, but determined.

I don't think anyone ever

notices the steps cleared, the slate

sidewalk of aqua stone showing

between the lilac bushes bare

as a newborn, past the hedges

to the street. No one ever

saw or said thank you.


In winter with white everywhere

and the clear cold night sky splattered

with stars and a full moon hanging

in the window for young eyes

to absorb the wonder, I remember

mittens and the Christmas program

and ice skates and the smell

of sausages and eggs on morning








View allets's Full Portfolio