First Snow1955—Caught by Papa on His Kodak Reflex II
by Michael Escoubas

My brothers and I awakened early
having passed the night dreaming
of snowball fights, as ice-chips, mixed
with snow, sang a tink-a-tank song
tapping upstairs window-panes.

After hot oatmeal, toast and juice,
Momma dressed us in layers
of long-johns, Eskimo coats,
galoshes and gloves. Out the door
we tumbled, frolicking and giggling.

Fresh-fallen snow swallowed us whole.
Swirling in joy, we rolled snowballs
for Frosty’s big belly, sculpted snow-angels
by gently moving outstretched arms; laughed,
as our eyeglasses fogged us blind.

Papa’s Kodak lens froze our world in time.
I keep his camera on my bookcase shelf,
and recall his toothy smile as he thumb-rolled
the film into position, got the light just right …
then Clicked his love into eternity.

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