Walking on a back road
From school
No sign of the sun
Leaden clouds overhead
Fields frozen by deep snow.
A northerly wind from Montreal
A long slog home___
Grey slush underfoot
The wet seeping
Through boots
Cold wet feets
Another mile to Grandmother’s house
Where waits
A warm pot belly stove
Dreaming
Pull off boots
Peel off soxes
Stick frozen toes
Under the heat
Aaah
A cup of tea With milk and sugar
Aaah
No more the cold
Grandmother’s house
Only another half-mile
To go
Till
Grandmother’s house
Spring
Another four months away.
Till then
Counting the days.
To April
Flowers
And no snow.
Aaaah
I spent my early childhood on Falmouth Foresides, Maine, sledding winters on Blackstrap Hill. It was over 400 feet high. There were really winters then, still are in Fort Kent. There are two season in Maine. The season of good sledding and the season of bad sledding. – Doctor Frank A Smith, who rode a sled on his visits around Gorham, Maine, when wintah was truly wintah.
I spent my early childhood on Falmouth Foresides, Maine, sledding winters on Blackstrap Hill. It was over 400 feet high. There were really winters then, still are in Fort Kent. There are two season in Maine. The season of good sledding and the season of bad sledding. – Doctor Frank A Smith, who rode a sled on his visits around Gorham, Maine, when wintah was truly wintah.
