Look at the snow, Dad,

that’s one I haven’t said before,

look at the snow!

Yes, I said,

yes, beautiful.

Not often enough

for So Cal me,

remembering when I was

very young and little,

dressed warmer than I knew

my parents from New York

to insulate protect me

walking on the way to school

and there was snow on the ground

actual snow in Monterey Park

and we stopped on the way

school can wait

we lay down in the front yards

of strangers and made snow angels

clumsy because we didn’t really know how

to wave our arms and legs

we tried

making snowballs

didn’t know how to pack them

threw them and they fell apart

by afternoon the snow had melted gone

aware it didn’t quite belong

just giving us a chance to see the world

coming out of school to empty yards

but I knew

even then

I had participated in something

an experience from that larger world

I’d only read about in books

or seen in pictures

and I felt taller

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