by the falling
whiteness of
the morning snow
I am torn between
staying inside
and going out
to play.
Old habits
die hard,
but these bones ache
after looking at the
road,
they know the
feel of the
ground
coming up quickly to
meet them
on a fall.
Perhaps I'll stay inside
and watch the kids
and remember days
gone by of
sleds, red cold tingly
skin and hills
larger than they
really were.
I'll make the hot
chocolate and
walk to my office
to work.
I'll raise my camera,
and hike the road,
and remember the
fun of children - watching
mine play on.
I'll cherish those days
of rickety sleds,
heading straight for trees,
and flipping over
to miss a friend.
Actually, just thinking
about them
makes my back hurt.
I'll just go get coffee.
_____
Ciao!
Tom +
