First Snow

First snow;

Heavy, white, wet.

Leaves, still on trees,

Hang limply under cold blankets.

First glimpse out frosted windows

Starts the stirs of exuberant shouts

In the early morning's quiet.

A mad dash;

Mittens, toques, winter jackets

Take their first breath of winter-y air

After a long year of waiting.

Snow forts,

And rickety, feeble snowmen 

Fill the yard among the slushy footprints

Left by little boots.

Glittery snow angels

Spread their wings and fly,

Each one special,

Each one unique.

A call from the front porch

Brings the shouts inside;

Boots off, ski pants scatter wet, clinging snow.

And happy voices 

Reminisce the mornings excitement

Over steaming mugs

Of hot chocolate

before starting all over again.

               - Natasha Dewing