Excited squeals announce a changed world.

The door bursts open. There are visible footprints! Snowballs and smiles.
It’s a new garden, a new playground.

Possibility! And a seeping cold.

Emotions change as gloves falter in their protective warmth.
Why are my fingers hurting?

Enthusiasm eclipses. Now there are tears and tiredness.
I don’t want to play outside any more.

Hot drinks, rubbed hands and new distractions. The old warm world.
And whilst the little ones move on? We are left.

With visible footprints.
Where did all this mud come from? 

The secret no one tells you? That pure, white snow? It’s dirty.Snow melting on grass

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *