Where's the Snow?

I grew up in Colorado. I lived there for twenty four years straight. I saw snow every winter. A year and a half ago, I moved away from Colorado, and I haven't seen snow since.

I get confused. I feel like I should wake up and see snow, but it never happens. It's cold here in the bay area, but all that comes out of the sky is a veil of mist. Either that or fat blobby rain drops (no, they're not that cute), that soak up the bottoms of my pants, and find thier way in my shoes, get my socks soaked and make me miserable in general.

What season is it? They say it's winter. I see the lawn decorations for Christmas on the lawns. But, if you ask me, having a Santa sleigh pulled by reindeer just doesn't make sense without the snow. I used to go sledding every winter, and I know that when you hit a patch of mud, the sled won't go. I guess Santa is more magic than I can imagine. But magic or no, don't you think he would adjust his outfit for the weather? He's always wearing that heavy coat.

Here is my

Ode to Snow

Falling from the sky,
so slow I can catch you
on my tongue.

You whisper past
my ear.
Patter in the pile

collecting on the ground.
A blanket of individuals.
Rain is all the same;

each drop
stabs
me in the heart.

Ok, so I just made that up, and you definitely won't see that in any anthologies. Now you know why I switched to fiction.

Pray for snow in Oakland.