Snow days
are known for the bliss
of sleeping in,
making snow men,
snowball fights,
drinking hot cocoa,
and lounging around in pajamas all day.
This is not the case for me.
This is not the case for anyone
who lives with horses.
Every time it snows,
at 9 A.M. we have to walk down to the barn
and start feeding.
There's nothing
like pushing a wheel-barrel
through a blizzard
and a foot of snow.
Nothing.
My fingers and toes turn blue,
and no amount of dancing
or bouncing around will warm them.
My nose becomes a faucet for the liquids within them.
My hair becomes stiff like little strands of popsicles.
Moreover, I get the privilege
of breaking frozen water buckets.
All thirty of them.
Then I get to do it again in the afternoon.
No, snow days.... no.
I would rather go to school.
Well, maybe.
