of snowmen and hot chocolate

the first snow of
the year
arrives suddenly

the flakes
wet and
fluffy

like dead
butterflies spiraling
to the ground

and i am instantly
reminded of
my mother bundling
me up before i
sprint out
the door
into
the soggy whiteness

my shoes heavy
with ice

i remember making
snowmen and
throwing snowballs
at the girls who
passed me wearing
pink jackets and
multi-color scarves

and the metallic
taste of the
pristine snow
from our backyard

but most of all
i remember drinking
hot chocolate
afterwards

my hands and
feet pink
with frost

my nose and
ears numb

my mother smiling
as she rubs my
back to
restart the
circulation from
my weary heart

-published in remark. #36