Sunday Scribblings: Big Dreams

Someone took a crayon
and colored the tree limbs
white

then placed cotton batting
on all the roofs,

covered the telephone wires
with toothpaste

and dressed the sky
in a gray fleece.

I close my eyes
and see our home in Florida.

I'm sitting on the porch
writing this poem

as the rising sun washes
over my feet

and inches up my legs.
I open my eyes,

see chunks of snow
beginning to fall

from tree limbs,
put on my jacket

grab a shovel,
and start clearing a path.