Snow Poem by Louise Gluck
Snow
Late December: my father and I
are going to New York, to the circus.
He holds me
on his shoulders in the bitter wind:
scraps of white paper
blow over the railroad ties.
My father liked
to stand like this, to hold me
so he couldn't see me.
I remember
staring straight ahead
into the world my father saw;
I was learning
to absorb its emptiness,
the heavy snow
not falling, whirling around us.
This piece also brought me back to childhood memories shared with my father. Nicely written poem.
I feel when i read your poem... I feel I am a child... Nice to remember the Childhoodness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:47:15 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Ever memorable childhood days of beautiful verses Louise Gluck.