Back at it again

Here I am trying to start blogging again… you know “fall off the horse and get back up”; “you only fail if you fall and don’t get up”… You get my drift.   Last time I was in a Blogging 101 I began following other writers.  I still get emails of posts from people from 2 or 3 years ago.   Looking for inspiration I decided to log into the page and go beyond the emailed Weekly Digest for Impromptu Promptings and peculiar ponderings.

https://promptlings.wordpress.com/2018/03/16/friday-favorites-grace-paley/

A couple of her posts inspired me today but in this particular post she asks –  Have you ever had one of those epiphanous moments when something triggers a childhood memory and suddenly you experience your inner child waking inside you? I’ve had SO many over the last few years that I’ve been digging around in my cave on this blog. In fact, I’ve had one very similar to the poem Paley wrote. Lots of memories came tumbling out of the past when I read it.   

Yes!  This was quite timely for me.   I had just the thing to get my juices flowing again.   It’s a piece I wrote many years ago as I was getting ready to enter my half-century marker.   Truth be told the 50’s weren’t bad for me but I didn’t know that then.  My mom had died at 54 and I couldn’t help but wonder.   One crisp winter night in New England as I was leaving the gym, I had one such “epiphanous moment”.     I need to work on my presentation and appropriate reposting but just wanted to get this out.  Please come with me, tell me what you think.

Angels in the Snow

She was here today,
And almost got away.
Every now and then she tries.
But I won’t let her have her way.
Can’t you know—I’m too old!

The snow mounds were soft
Each flake sparkled with light.
The air crisp and enticing.
“It would only take a moment,
And who was there to see”.

Awakened, Restless,
She stirred within my soul.
But her jailer I’d become,
Forbidding, stern, and unmoving.
No chance to break and run.

In the lot, boys packed
Two arsenals of snow
With giggles in camouflage
Waiting for the battle cry-“CHARGE!”
Was the coast clear to start?

They glanced at me there,
And her eyes looked back.
Awaiting still her release
From the open cell of time and
This society’s constraints.

Don’t stop, keep moving.
No snowball fight for you,
And think not for a moment
That middle-aged women can
Make angels in the snow.