Winter Holiday 2025
What Am I to You?
What Am I to You?
by George Glass
What goes through your mind
When first you see me?
You gawk, you smile
You stretch your tiny hand
Out, up, grasping
For the tiny white motes
Drifting gently down
Like nothing you have seen before
Outside
Puffily armored against the chill
Oh how you run
And roll, and build, and throw
Smiling
Laughing
And when at last you tire
Grow cold
Are called in
Your ranging footprints still evidence your joy
I am a bother
You shovel
You ache
You watch for signs of me
Warn your family, your friends
Because I can be
Worse than a nuisance
Out your window
The field of white
Softens every feature
Every sound
And just for this day
This hour
This minute