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Snow Falls
Playful, little stomps walk dry.
Innocent minds explore like a dolphin,
wrapped heads beneath a concrete sky.
Beneath the roaring engine of a lion.
Eyes behold a gentle avalanche.
Hearts pump into sweet adventure.
Hands clench excited, arms branch.
Boots travel swiftly yet unsure.
Laughing, yelling, jumping thrilled,
our bond of blood connects the soul.
Faces lift up, waiting, then filled.
Snow falls, sparing me, away I roll.
Eyes open blurred from short blackness.
Quickly, I stand up next to a parking block,
as confusion dissolves into blindness.
She is gone, pulsing fright of a shock.
Terror curdles thick from head to toe.
My heart bleeds calling her name,
"Hello? Les... Lesley? Where did you go?"
She was right here with me. Is this a game?
Tears start gushing, calling over and over,
My body trembles with fear that scars,
like a rumbling volcano pouring horror.
My head turns to the snow; piled stars.
One leg leaps after the other.
My raindrops fall and chill through the air.
Frantic, I collapse and try to dig under,
knowing she is trapped under there.
Suddenly, I give up, realizing I need help.
Terrified shrieks sunder the air,
over and over I scream, "Help! Help!"
I hope the working lion hears my prayer.
As the snow tractor becomes idle,
the lion leans over the cement edge.
Without question he jumps down like an angel,
gloriously possessed to gently dredge.
The hood of her coat is slightly revealed.
I stand there eyes glued to strong hands,
they pull, lift her up and out; unsealed.
The sorrow of my helpless body expands.
An ambulance arrives with the police;
paramedic rushes and takes her into warm arms.
My sobbing heart pounds to release,
as a few slaps awaken the little girl, blessed charms.
A friendly angel of authority takes my hand.
He asks where I live as I dreadfully lead him,
imagining the stream of anger to withstand.
A horrific stream from my mother; must out-swim.
Hesitantly, I open the door as we enter my home.
He explains as I feel my mother will blame.
He leaves, mother scolds me, her mouth might foam.
My sister almost died, my tears roll in shame.
© Copyright 2000 Kenneth
Jp Drysdale
*Dedicated to my
Sister, Lesley Drysdale*