Snow in late April

by Kim Walters

It arrives inconspicuously,
while your attention is turned
to seed packets and bounties of eggs.

Sneaking in without gusty fanfare,
it falls straight down
in heavy gobs
that test tree limbs,
slide off the barn roof
and into the garden bed you weeded just yesterday.

The children thrill at the prospect
of a snow day at home,
while you thrill at the prospect of a slow cup of coffee
sipped from a soft arm chair with a garden view and
within audible distance to children making plans.

Later, plans fulfilled:
sled paths mark the yard,
happy children in soggy pants scale snow fort walls,
while you sit in the un-electrified house
enjoying the pure quiet that is now
and probably was
on days like this 100 years ago
when a farm wife sat in this room,
looked from this window,
and didn’t fret about snow falling on daffodils.