h1

snow 123007

December 31, 2007

the sky was taking requests
so I gave one up
asking for that snowy rain mix to hit this town
and not the next
and it happened

they say the gods never answer prayers in the way you ask them
they have their own way of doing things
and that’s what we call the great mystery of life
so actual prayers are not as definite was we think they should be

the snow was minute marbles
grains of ice swept from the beaches where angels sit
sunning themselves in the land of endless sunshine
kicking around in heavenly volleyball courts
where they calculate algorithms with fingers
and demonstrate the backwards superstitions of science

the snow was minute marbles
and I collected them in my hoodie to take them home
and play a game of mancala
each brisked down from the gray umbrella ceiling
and piled up on cars and buildings
making a pre-technicolor sahara out of the world

then it passed
and the sky went sea-like again
and this sugar-coated world
with sugar-coated sidewalks
and sugar-coated treetops
looked like kids cereal
decoder ring wonder

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5 comments

  1. I like the childlike wonder, underscored in the last two lines, as well as playing mancala. Nice poem.


  2. This poem is alive with so many imges! Such a delight!


  3. They never do answer the way you want them too…I suppose it’s half of the joy in the path.

    Happy New Year. ^_^


  4. Just wanted to say hello and Happy New Year dude!


  5. I like the atmosphere in this, the playfulness



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