Monday, January 27, 2014

The Memory of Snow

The Mill by Andrew Wyeth 1964

She remembered snow
and snow ice cream
snow shovels
and snowballs.

Not everyone she knew
remembered snow
its feel
the way it melted on your tongue
or landed on your lashes.

Snow came no more
climate changed
her grandmother laughed
fanning herself
on the porch in Maine in December.

She once told great stories
about the last Arctic Vortex
and the six foot snow rabbit 
they fashioned that July
now she just sipped her iced tea
and fanned herself.

The memory of snow
just a wistful smile
and an album of yellowing photos
in the box she kept
under her bed.

J. Binford-Bell
January 2014


  1. Lovely words. And Wyeth-- among my favorite.

  2. ...I just know she's thankful she kept them, and memories will carry her on.... and that touch of snow on my tongue still as wonderful as my childhood!

  3. this is very lovely...memorable words. We made a snow rabbit once also.
    Have a wonderful day.

  4. This is excellent and deeply troubling.


  5. Is it hot in here? I said fanning myself...


I appreciate all kind comments on my art and poetry.