Snow Day with My Daughter
Irene’s cheeks are flushed
like a baby’s tush.
A wool scarf frames her face,
a bow tied at her hairline.
Happiness holds the day together.
The aroma of maple syrup and bacon permeates the house,
The fireplace revs up its engine.
The radiator welcomes the wet wool hats.
She builds a snowman:
two sticks for eyes, a lop-sided Twizzler for the mouth
She wraps her scarf around his belly
to keep him safe.
Snowflakes disappear by the nape of her neck
as we clear a path to nowhere.
A Warm February Day In New York
The snowplows trumpet like an elephant stampede down Victory Boulevard.
Two-to-three inches of snow expected tomorrow, but today, we wear short-sleeved
shirts and frayed shorts from last summer – turn off the heat and thank groundhog
Chuck for his early spring prediction.
We consume the day like an inmate’s last meal:
Neighbors spend the day planting carrots, tomatoes, cauliflower.
I move my daughter’s neglected dollhouse, keyboard, guitar to the curb: “Works well. Enjoy.” A young boy jumps out his dad’s Toyota Sienna, grabs the keyboard and gives me a thumbs up.
The smell of sweet smoke transports us to a summer cookout.
We drive to Brooklyn’s Shirley Chisholm State Park, its wildflowers
on a toxic dump.
On our way home, the sunset drops its pink hue like a crocheted baby’s blanket.
The Verrazano Bridge’s arches sculpted in the shape of a woman’s breasts.
The deck its ribcage. We follow its breath back home.
Anna Papadopoulos has been a cashier, columnist, wedding photographer, chandelier, marketing professor and corporate executive. She adores New York City’s gritty beaches and littered streets and even though she knows the odds of winning the lotto are impossible, she believes that it will happen. She and her husband share their home in Staten Island, NY with their twin sons, daughter, a poodle, a Siberian cat, and her mother’s neglected Lenox collection. Her poetry has been featured in Newtown Literary, The Monterey Poetry Review, The Dillydoun Review, The Closed Eye Open, Second Chance Lit, Conestoga Zen and the Poetry and Covid Project, an initiative funded by the UK Arts and Humanities.
Irene’s cheeks are flushed
like a baby’s tush.
A wool scarf frames her face,
a bow tied at her hairline.
Happiness holds the day together.
The aroma of maple syrup and bacon permeates the house,
The fireplace revs up its engine.
The radiator welcomes the wet wool hats.
She builds a snowman:
two sticks for eyes, a lop-sided Twizzler for the mouth
She wraps her scarf around his belly
to keep him safe.
Snowflakes disappear by the nape of her neck
as we clear a path to nowhere.
A Warm February Day In New York
The snowplows trumpet like an elephant stampede down Victory Boulevard.
Two-to-three inches of snow expected tomorrow, but today, we wear short-sleeved
shirts and frayed shorts from last summer – turn off the heat and thank groundhog
Chuck for his early spring prediction.
We consume the day like an inmate’s last meal:
Neighbors spend the day planting carrots, tomatoes, cauliflower.
I move my daughter’s neglected dollhouse, keyboard, guitar to the curb: “Works well. Enjoy.” A young boy jumps out his dad’s Toyota Sienna, grabs the keyboard and gives me a thumbs up.
The smell of sweet smoke transports us to a summer cookout.
We drive to Brooklyn’s Shirley Chisholm State Park, its wildflowers
on a toxic dump.
On our way home, the sunset drops its pink hue like a crocheted baby’s blanket.
The Verrazano Bridge’s arches sculpted in the shape of a woman’s breasts.
The deck its ribcage. We follow its breath back home.
Anna Papadopoulos has been a cashier, columnist, wedding photographer, chandelier, marketing professor and corporate executive. She adores New York City’s gritty beaches and littered streets and even though she knows the odds of winning the lotto are impossible, she believes that it will happen. She and her husband share their home in Staten Island, NY with their twin sons, daughter, a poodle, a Siberian cat, and her mother’s neglected Lenox collection. Her poetry has been featured in Newtown Literary, The Monterey Poetry Review, The Dillydoun Review, The Closed Eye Open, Second Chance Lit, Conestoga Zen and the Poetry and Covid Project, an initiative funded by the UK Arts and Humanities.