The Snow Must Melt

I understand that this might be a bit soon for some people – mostly those living in the Eastern US – but here in Pamplona, as the last lumps of former snowmen vanish from the parks, I was reminded of this poem I wrote some years ago, and actually sent with some others to the Atlantic Monthly. It didn’t make it in, but my rejection letter said I did get to the last round. I’d like to see it in a magazine some day – as I would all my poems, of course – but it might reach a few people right here.

Meanwhile, back to editing my new YA paranormal novel, The Soul of Adam Short….

 

The Snow Must Melt

 

She picked the boy up and sat him on her lap

His long legs gently tapping her shins

As she smoothed his unruly hair and

He tried to brush away her hand,

Leaning back against her breasts.

“Why won’t it stay forever?” he asked.

“I like it like it is.”

She smiled unseen and told him

She was sorry, but the snow must melt.

“But why? Why can’t it stay?”

“Because everything must go away:

It’s like leaves falling off the trees.

You like kicking them around, but

They don’t always stay there on the ground.”

“Where do they go?”

“They disappear,” she told him, “But don’t worry

Because next year there are always more.

They have to fall and go so that more can grow.”

“Will there be more snow?”

“Maybe, my dear. We’ll see. But tomorrow

It will probably be all gone.”

“And I can go back out on my bike?”

“Yes. You see – if it was always snowy

You wouldn’t be able to ride your bike.”

“All gone!” he shrugged greatly against her.

“All gone, love,” she replied and hugged him.