Oh my god, James. That poem nearly did me in. I don't know if it's just about nostalgia but at first it seemed as if there never has been any winters like the winters of my childhood, but then I remembered raising our sons in the Bronx and the exact same things happening for them. In fact it was better. i loved gong out inthe snow when each of the boys were young and shoveling and building extravagant igloos. Then going inside with red faces and getting warm with my wife's hot cocoa with whipped cream. And if it was a snow day and school was closed, we played board games, or action figures, or Legos. Now we live in California, so we do different things with our granddaughters, but still make memories. Your poem is beautiful and conjured up all that I've written here. Thank you for that, James.
I'm so glad it did, Sandy! Those sound like great memories. Winter was always my favorite time of year growing up, and it's been great to share the season now with my daughter, who feels the same.
I do miss the snow out here, but not the shoveling. I can't tell you how many times I shoveled my car out at 6:00 a.m. only to have the snow plow come down our street and push all the snow back on the car!!!! I have to confess to using words than an elementary teacher and principal shouldn't utter.
Oh YES. The plows. We had an arrangement with a neighbor of ours: he had a golf cart with oversized tires, chains and a plow in the front. For a case of beer a month he'd clear us out whenever the plow boxed us back in. It was my dad's great honor to take up the task when our neighbor was out of town.
Really enjoyed the sound and rhythm of this one!
So glad you did! It was a fun one to work with.
Oh my god, James. That poem nearly did me in. I don't know if it's just about nostalgia but at first it seemed as if there never has been any winters like the winters of my childhood, but then I remembered raising our sons in the Bronx and the exact same things happening for them. In fact it was better. i loved gong out inthe snow when each of the boys were young and shoveling and building extravagant igloos. Then going inside with red faces and getting warm with my wife's hot cocoa with whipped cream. And if it was a snow day and school was closed, we played board games, or action figures, or Legos. Now we live in California, so we do different things with our granddaughters, but still make memories. Your poem is beautiful and conjured up all that I've written here. Thank you for that, James.
I'm so glad it did, Sandy! Those sound like great memories. Winter was always my favorite time of year growing up, and it's been great to share the season now with my daughter, who feels the same.
I do miss the snow out here, but not the shoveling. I can't tell you how many times I shoveled my car out at 6:00 a.m. only to have the snow plow come down our street and push all the snow back on the car!!!! I have to confess to using words than an elementary teacher and principal shouldn't utter.
Oh YES. The plows. We had an arrangement with a neighbor of ours: he had a golf cart with oversized tires, chains and a plow in the front. For a case of beer a month he'd clear us out whenever the plow boxed us back in. It was my dad's great honor to take up the task when our neighbor was out of town.
Intensely, beautifully musical.
Thanks so much, Mike. It's one of those I had to work on quite a bit to get right, but I hope I finally got it somewhere in the ballpark.