Son/Father conversation...
The white blanket that shrouds the ugly underneath...
The white shroud that hides the spines of the tree’s in the deep of winter...
The only thing that removes all the stark reality underneath
The beauty replacing the despair..
The potholes filled with repair..
The tree’s with their majestic white...
The clouds showing their immaculate might...
No more blacktop for the eye to see..
No more discolored dark city.
No school today or tomorrow...
The snow comes in to remove my sorrow..

::Switch::

The white blanket of crap that drives me crazy...
The snow that makes my sight hazy..
The cause of life lost
the price at which no greater cost..
The blanket of horror to my eyes
for underneath lies a dangerous surprise...
Going down this road of pure white
hoping that everything turns out all right..
No more white lines to guide me
Just this white death waiting to hide me...
Waiting to pull me off this safe road
and waiting to hide me and my load...
I wont be found for a week
while I lay in some snowed over creek..
I hate snow in its evil fury
it just causes me to worry...
Will I make it home safe from harm
or should I take this form of alarm...

::Switch::

I sit and watch my father worry
because he’s always in a hurry..
He doesn’t love the snow like I do
but maybe he lost it as he grew...
He doesn’t see the sparkle in the sky
and he just has this worried look in his eye...
He tells me that snow is of a greater evil
and that it causes great pain for people...
He grunts and groans about the driveway
while I make a snowman and play..
He doesn’t have snowball fights anymore
like he thinks of this glorious snow as a bore..

::Switch::

He thinks it’s all just fun and play
while I shovel this sidewalk all day..
He makes snowmen and angels of snow
while this bitter wind begins to blow...
I put salt and sand down to ease the path
but his little mind can’t do the math...
He hasn’t fallen like I so many times before
and he thinks I’m doing some petty chore..
He will learn about the dangers of old man winter..
when he finds that walking stick of life to splinter...

::Switch::

Maybe one day he will see the beauty of this snow
Maybe one day his heart will open to show...
For I love this father of mine
but he has these ideals in his mind...
I don’t think you can teach him otherwise
since he always gets this look in his eyes...
He thinks that I have much to learn in the ways of man
and that I have this naives to the big plan...
He thinks that the world would be better without snow
but if there was that place, I’d never go...

02/01/2000

Posted on 12/16/2003
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