First Snow

There is something almost magical about the first snowfall of the year
The world grows quiet and sounds of everyday life are unclear
Even the children's howls of joy seem somehow subdued
White powder covers the world and everything seems new
Fresh and clean and with my worries and cares
Held in check as gossamer flakes fall through the air
Cold seems less a hindrance and I breathe in the crisp morning
Standing just inside my door with thoughts of snowmen aborning
Images of lopsided snow angels and stout forts dotting the land
With a sigh I shut the door and return to the work at hand
The passions of youth must be delayed at least for a time
As toward work and bills and mature endeavors I turn my mind
But with a rueful grin and one more backward glance
I promise swift return to this snow covered world that entranced
Me into rolling back the years the aches the lost chances and with youthful glee
I will return to this winter wonderland and, in turn, the child inside will return to me