Snap Frost

Nov 18 2011

A shadow dance

with fall.

From rain to snow, and back.

Flirting with winter

in a sheer white dress,

a mere glimpse

to tempt us.

As hot and cold as the bashful boy

who must asks a girl to the dance,

first time, both.

From frost-bit tongue

to verbal flood,

tumbling out at once.

From blushing flush

to drained of blood,

numb

with exposure.

Cold black rain

hurtling hard as nails

softens into flakes,

filling the air

lightly touching down.

Covering up

the scarred surface of earth,

the sins of neglect

as the season’s end

has me caught, once again

unprepared.

After all these years

why am I still surprised

by cold dark winter?

Suddenly here

in virgin white,

before frozen ruts

and soiled slush

violate its beauty.

A transient dusting,

as much a caution, a tease

as that first slow dance,

before I could feel

even slightly at ease

with girls.

We tried hard not to touch,

clammy hands numb

backs stiffly clutched

at a safe distance,

as if the mercury had dropped

suddenly.

A snap frost

before the harvest is in.

And an early winter

in the school gym.