They said it would snow a lot
and it did snow a lot.
Cars got stuck, and we all did
what we always do. The thing
where kids throw snowballs
and sled down the hill, and
we all take pictures, or video,
to document this snowfall,
this child. In the history of
the world, the only child
to ever encounter snow —
or at least, the only one
who belongs to us, or one of
few who belong to us. We also
help push cars away from curbs,
wonder if a package will arrive
(and know it will not) and
whether tomorrow we’ll be able
to travel to some other place.
Our boots make puddles by our
back doors. We step in it,
the melted snow. The outside
shocks us, how it comes inside.
As if it’s welcome here. As if
it could ever live among us,
become another child.