Snowstorm Heading Our Way

Greetings from the Washington DC's snowstorm Jonas' path. It began to snow about an hour ago.  We have a fire going in the wood stove, and lots of soup. Flights cancelled. My work trip to San Antonio has been postponed to Monday.  And I feel like a kid who doesn't have to go to school.  Here's a poem of mine about that!  From The Sea Accepts All Rivers p 43.

Snow Days

There isn't anything

more full of life and joy

than one's own child

who doesn't have

to go to school

because of snow.


Snow in West River, 2016.

Snow in West River, 2016.

The snowstorms

are an unexpected gift,

a time to snuggle

in a chair before a fire,

a time to play and laugh

and soak the laziness

into our bones,

a time to be 

exceedingly undone.

For grown-ups such free days

are rare. Our lives are focused by

the drumbeat of our work,

the cadence of impatient

fingers on a desk.

Perhaps my child's lesson

is one I need to learn--

there isn't anything

more full of 

joy and fun,

than one entire day

that's full of snow

and free of everything

I thought life was.