Not A Snow Globe
She has a whizzy snow globe
by her bedside at home. But
it doesn’t look like town today.
In a long line of stopped cars.
Smog turns the air dead mute.
Outside lots of people huffing
about. Some stumbling. But no
snowmen. No sparkly pine trees.
The grown-ups, they lied again.
Snow is not storybook pretty.
This stinging January morning
grumbles with sky-dandruff,
scurfing sleepy-head shivers.
A grubby glaze grey-washes
pavements and grease slimes
the roads. Gritty pebbles dash.
Stern men warn on the radio:
“Severe weather alerts in place.”
Phlegm-slip ice drips constant
from aching sinus clouds. Wet
like snot, drooping suspended.
Frozen on the outward snivel
of a nostril sneezed red raw.
She knew she’d get told off
for that. “For goodness sake,
blow! No, not on your sleeve,
use a tissue, a tissue!” Adults,
they confuse her. She puffs
out some window fog to draw
bored finger doodles. Magical
icicles glistening and beautiful
Snow Queens. Her Mum growls
bad words through clamped
lips, gloves tight on the wheel.
The car’s a bit slidey. Everyone
outside looks so sad and tired.
She has a snow globe at home
by her bed. So different to town
today. Volvo-cocooned and safe,
she still knows that grown-ups lie.
‘scurfing sleepy-head shivers’ ~ genius
Running out of ways to describe the sleety grime we seem to get…!
I think this worked really well. It is a tricky thing to be describing.
I’m writing the opening scene for my novel (Novel writing course with Lindsay) in which the sister delivers her babe and promptly dies. Eewww, some of my descriptions seem graphic, to say the least …
Sometimes a story or a poem needs to not shy away from the “stronger” stuff – I get frustrated if an author uses prissy euphemisms rather than calling a spade a spade. Be interested to have a look at your draft when you’re ready for anyone to see it…
And how about «sky-dandruff»! Good stuff (the poem, not the sky-dandruff)
Yes, that gets a ‘wow’ too
Of course, you’ll know a thing or two about proper snow – we don’t get real snow here.
It was hard to get to your poem fromt he reader. You couldn’t click on the title, so I just had to go to any post and back peddle. But I found it! Nicely done.
Thanks for letting me know Lilly – I’d better check out what’s going on with that. And thanks for taking the time to search out the poem – glad you liked it.
Holly, I love this. Story of my life (usually) here in winter. Someone needs to tell old man winter to blow his nose.
Oh it’s horrible isn’t it! We’re expecting some snow in the next few days but we so seldom get proper thick snow, just a smattering that barely covers and just goes to dirty iced slush within an hour. Hate it. Can’t wait for spring!
Yes–if it is going to snow, the least it can do is be pretty. Not that messy, slippery, icky mud-colored stuff.
Or yellow snow… ewww, gross! lol.
In the meantime… *sings badly off key* “let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…”
This a good and apt theme! I like!
Snow expected here in the next twelve hours.. oh joy! Thanks Joe.
Are you like us and completely shut down at a single snowflake?
Yup! We Brits don’t do well with snow… lol. Going to be an interesting coupe of days I think. Saturday me and a couple of other lady poets (including the lovely Polly!) are supposed to be traveling from Worcester to Avebury in Wiltshire for a writing workshop themed on some ancient standing stones… Going to be an epic journey! Thermals and flasks of tea at the ready!
Good luck!
There’s always this double-sidedness to snow and winter? Love/hate, beautiful/ugly, light/dark. On a sunny, frosty day like today I love it to bits. On other days it depresses me no end. Your poem encapsulates all this ambiguity perfectly.
Ambiguity – that’s exactly it isn’t it. I think it’s pretty when it’s falling or when it’s all new and untouched but when it’s half melted and then refrozen after getting tromped on and mushed about, it’s just nasty. I like my snow from behind a window, curled up inside looking at it with a nice fire and a hot chocolate.
And I have to admit I like my winter sports once I am back at the chalet with a big cup of mulled wine…
Mmmm-mmmulled wine! Now you’ve got me thinking Marina!
“Sky dandruff” – love it! Love the whole snow globe!
Christine
I feel rather sorry for the child – no wonder she’s confused when her snow globe and story books show it as beautiful and magical and then in reality all snow seems to cause is stress… maybe I need to follow this up with another poem, a cheerier one, where the little girl gets to experience a happy “snow day”!
Holly I just remembered something, and just had to tell you! My youngest daughter ( the now qualified social worker!!) used to have a snow globe and it had an animal inside it. She hated the fact that it was trapped and I had to smash it open an free it! Lol
Oh that’s so sweet… and makes perfect sense! You’ll see in my newer post that I’ve revisited her, like we were talking about.
Yes that would be good! A happy ending! Lol xx
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Thanks Jeremiah.
I remember how hurt I was when, as a child I discovered that grown-ups lied. I don’t mean the usual lies about the Santa or where babies came from, either, I mean the BIG stuff. This was a GREAT piece, Holly, even though it made me sad. Still, I suppose that’s the aim of writing: to make the reader FEEL. Well done.
Thanks Kate – it’s lovely to hear when a poem has an emotional impact on someone, though it’s a little bitter-sweet when it makes someone feel sad. The lying and the snow seemed like a useful metaphor…
Thank you. I shall never look at a snow globe or the actual snow again without thinking of sky dandruff!
We had almost two inches last Wednesday but it was quickly gone.
As always, well done Holly!
Ah yes – the sky dandruff! That was the first image I had for this poem, horrible dirty city snow…. Of course it’s much prettier out of town…