Dream Snow

Dream Snow

It doesn't snow much here,
because of the insulating effect
of Puget sound.
Anyway,
we have some now,
not much;
it is never very much,
but it would be nice
to have enough
to play in.

Although
with my luck,
someone would call the cops
on me
if I did go out
and play in it.

I do remember
some of the good snows
of my youth;
the most exciting
of which was sledding
in West Seattle
in the late 50's--
complete with snowmen,
snow angels,
snow forts, snowball "conflicts",
to use the popular euphemisn.

Since then,
however,
I have come to dislke
(be afraid of)
fighting.
I still cling
to the apparently
foolish notion
that disagreements
and misunderstandings
can be ameliorated,
or even resolved
by rational discussion.

I might feel this way
possibly because
of the argument
between my mother and father--
that I witnessed,
which was followed
soon thereafter
by the divorce--
and the difficult
second mother
and dangerous older stepsister.

That was during the Korean war.
I also vaguely remember
a newspaper headline
about some adventurer's determination
to succeed,
even if he had to
"blow up the whole world".
No doubt
I don't remember it
incorrectly,
when I was only 7 or 8.

Now watch this segue--
that was also the time
of the big snow
of the late 40's
or early 50's.

The snow drifts were
as high
as my shoulders,
and I undoubtedly
had much fun
playing in it.

Although,
now that you remind me,
I don't remember those times
being much fun.
Probably,
that's why I prefer
to look
o the future,
even though Lucy always seems
to pull the football away,
no matter how much
I want to believe
in the basic goodness
of the human soul.

As I write this,
the sun begins
to brighten the day,
and I know
that whatever fell
through the night
is melting.

I guess what
I'm asking here
is how much snow
can God's love
melt,
and how much fear
am I required
to face
in order to try
to make one little misalignment
of human souls
right again?

Doug Palmer 2006