Elyria attracts snow
like cowpies flies
each morning
of this visit
back to Winckles St
I start the day
wiggling into Dad's boots
pulling down woolen cap
it mite be fun
to make fresh tracks
on a trek to Cleveland St
instead I tend
to filial tasks
pushing a broom
till snow white
turns
pavement gray
I remember
a winter perhaps
a half century ago
when the snow
seemd to reach
my waist
then magic
now burden
times change
this snow
feels heavier
each morning
sweeping it away
clears mind
cleans memory
I am the me
I was
& am
& now
snow
returns
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