Snow Days

These days are full of half-finished coffee
and half-written poems-
the snow outside is two feet deep,
weighing heavy on the tree branches and
blanketing my crazy home in small-town laziness-
and I wish I was young or
financially stable enough to excuse spending
my days building snowmen or
feeling the thrill of flying down a hill in
a plastic sled-
but I am sitting inside scribbling for pennies
and losing more money every day the schools are closed-
but none of these words are coming out right-
what I mean to say is-
I wish I were in a lodge in Vermont
sipping tea
and signing copies of my books-
instead of being a nanny
and writing poems nobody will ever read.

“Snow Days”- 2-4-14- jessicagadziala


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