December nudges me
With thoughts of broad, blunt hands
To which I once with resolution clung
To aid me through the deep, drifting snow
While gales around us little-heeded sung.
Why I recall them chubby, chapped escapes me
With them larger far than mine.
I guess love places where it will
The things that we hold onto over time.
When I looked up to wind-burned cheeks
And into crinkly laughing eyes,
I delighted in the fast-pushed sled
Begged another ‘horsey” ride.
The roughness, blue plaid mackinaw
Often broke the north wind’s fury.
The feet that helped to break the trail
Eased a little traveler’s worry.
The serial tales past curfew time
Delighted on the bed
The eager imagination
Of an “almost” sleepy-head.
Years bring other kinds of storms, delights as well,
And we see facets of us all we didn’t know,
And, yet, December nudges me: recall
Sweet shelter of a brother in the snow.
©2010 Carol Morfitt