Olympia, Washington  October 2002

Days of 1980

Minnesota winters last six months

You forget white Christmas

by Thanksgiving.

Adults become irritable,

shoveling the endless snow,

driving icy roads

underneath a steely ceiling

that never lets sunlight through,

coming inside coated with cold slush

trying to stay warm on empty nights.

But for me, a playground:

the gravely street slopes on a sled,

frozen lakes and piles of snow,

the tiny snowmen armies

and their unlimited ammunition,

tunneled mazes through massive drifts,

They were my winter solstice.

In March, my older brothers built

the king of snowmen, taking turns rolling

and stacking the balls of his body.

When they finished, looping paths

of exposed grass ran all over the yard.

I chased them, laughing

and throwing snow at my little brother.

Our king stood over eight feet tall,

four crystal spheres,

two giant tree branch arms.

My brothers wanted to get a picture

of me up on his arm.

It couldn't hold my weight,

but they held me up there

and I didn't worry about anything.