There’s that sound again, everything damped

save the sandpaper grate

of a passing plastic sledge,

swaddled childhood calls from hoods,

and mock anger threats, as ammo is readied

from car bonnet snow.

There is still an excitement of sorts, but it will not

gain entry to memory, no recalled thought will

read ‘remember when the snow fell’. Not now.

People pass oblivious to each other, each wrapped

in a personal storm, some leaning forward, all

are awkward in hats, boots and scarves,

their purposeful faces with Winter wounds,

looking ahead, intent on arriving.

And the street lamps, feeble in their attempt to

be miniature suns, just glow, inert, as the white

reflected dawn saturates all with steel grey,

adding drama to the smothered laurel leaves

that droop under the weight, looking like

huge gloves.

Swarms of tiny ice moths swirl, run and fall,

building small mounds and plateaus with their death,

beautiful for a while, virgin fondant, before decaying

into demerara slush.

But I remember when proper snow fell.


17 thoughts on “SNOW

  1. I was born in Guisborough (N. Yorks), regularly visited Pudsey – had a mill-owning uncle lived there He used to take me to watch Len Hutton bat at the St. Lawrence (?) cricket ground there. He got me his autogrsph, which I still possess. (blogged about it once).

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Small world, my great-grandfather was called May from Co Mayo, and was overseer in a Mill there. The poem ‘ Bradford Pals’ I wrote for in memory of his son, Clement. Your memory is spot on Roland, St. Lawrence cricket club on Tofts Rd, Pudsey.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Brilliant Nigel and what I love about this poem are the inferences created by what is not said. A good mix of social commentary from the past and present.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I just popped over to see you Mary, I’ll pop back when I’ve more time. I was just getting stuck into your article on the German education system. I studied German language, culture and history for many years in my youth, though my knowledge of the language has almost gone, the interest in all things German remains. You have some lovely photos.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Why thank you for such a kind comment. Our two children came with me the two years I taught as a Fulbright Teacher in Neresheim and in Berlin. I studied three years in Heidelberg. Now retired, I taught all levels of German for almost 50 years and managed to finish five degrees: language, literature, culture, history and geography. Loved teaching in Germany too. Your comment is much appreciated. Mary Ann

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Nigel, this is such a tender and strong poem with so much emotion it leaves my inner
    in turmoil. You are painting a picture of snow and childhood fun, of people wrapped up in their personal storm.
    “And the street lamps, feeble in their attempt to
    be miniature suns, just glow, inert…”
    Beautiful and the reading as always lends it more strength. Thank you.


    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ha! I’ll send you some warmth and sunshine, Nige. The weather seems to be confused today though, much colder. All went well, thank you, just waiting to schedule the next and hopefully last surgery. x

    Liked by 1 person

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