Six years old and never seen the snow.
Mild winters
balmy springs
and baking summers.
were your childhood.
Six long years
no snowballs,
no toboggans.
Then, at last, the cold came
and the snow fell,
and the fields were white.
And wrapped in layers of scarves
you made your mark upon the snowy path
a gap-toothed, smiling picture of delight.
Feb 91
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