Taste of Winter

Fire in my belly roars
as snow melts upon my tongue. 
I taste snow tunnels during recess. 
I grab ahold of the forts we built
and snow angels scattered among fields.
I reach towards my grandmother,
leaving notes
on the days leading up to Christmas.
I bury my face into sheets on snow days,
cereal and cartoons in the morning
hot chocolate in the evening.
Blankets cover our front yard,
I immerse myself in the paw prints
left by my childhood dog.
My father shoveling in his charcoal jacket.
I peer through the window,
glory follows the path he's made.
My boots sit atop the vent
soaking in candied heat.
I count the strokes of the grandfather clock,
When midnight strikes,
icicles waltz with the horizon. 
Through my bedroom window,
dreams stretch,
sending moments of youth
to my adult self.
A place she can rest. 

This poem was published by Ekstasis Magazine.