It's time to sing to dance a snowflake -
fake or real. What's the deal?
I remember cutting paper snowflakes
for the classroom windows in the
white wooden schoolhouse I attended
as a child,
the smell of wet mittens around the hot
potbellied stove in the center of the
classroom near the entrance, where we
hung our coats and left our overshoes dripping
with the melting snow.
Swish, swish, swish
in our snowsuits we went walking to the desk
Excitement in the air!
I brought my RCA Victrola and Christmas
45s to play for the party later in the day.