For a prompt of “Snow” from Kim at dVerse Poets and a now new poem version of a little remembrance I wrote a number of years ago of when I was a kid, after a big snow, and got my first scar, and a piece that I just recently re-posted.
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The Snow Was 17 Feet
The snow was tall
taller still in my small
17 feet
maybe
it had to be
at least
but I would climb it
cross it
on top to its peak
reach out for now shorter trees to climb and view from above it
with determined scarved stare
and new purpose swim goggles
in imagined funny tennis racket shoes (regular boots)
just like in TV shows of winter
with penguins
and white bears
and whiter blank horizons
and shout to other snow still falling that I was their King
each and every flake
joining brothers and sisters that had played pile on
in the night
at my door
with a glass view of my waiting kingdom
and I pushed and fussed and shoved and punched
“Let me through snow … I am King!”
until my view shattered and polka dotted
the front step’s landscape
and little glinting reflections
of broken, jagged sky laughed
and small kings found that they bleed
and scar
but
in an always reminder of snow 17 feet
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