Green Snow
California has straw hills
Ornamented by dark oak designs.
Their cereal crisp crunchings
Hot dust our nostrils
Until year-end.
Then comes the overnight magic green snow;
A sparkling blanket
Covers road ruts,
Cow trails, highway cuts,
Gullied quarry walls.
Your boots want to stamp patterns in it
And your mittens
Want to pack crystal grass snowballs
To bombard enemy barn doors.
Most of all
Your legs want to
Run non-stop over green hills
Until you drop exhausted
On the emerald sled slopes,
With you heart beating whizzfast
From the exercise
And beauty.
December 29, 1981
Mom would have been inspired by Simon Beck's efforts. See:
Your boots want to stamp patterns in it ...
