by Rohini Chowdhury

"It's snowing."
"Snowing?"
"Snowing."
"What do you mean, snowing...?"
"It didn't snow at Christmas!"
"But it's snowing now!"
"Oh - it's only a teensy-weensy bit of snow.
Look - it's not even turning the pavements white!"
"Do you think it will snow all day?"
"Do you think it'll snow enough
For a snow ball fight?"
"For a snow man?"
"Do you think we'll be let off from school?"
"Oh - it's just a teensy-weensy bit of snow."
"It's becoming heavier."
"No it isn't."
"Yes it is."
"Look! It's a blizzard!"
"It isn't. It only looks like one."
"Snow attack! Straight into my mouth!"
"I can't get any into my mouth! How'd you manage!"

"Button up your jackets.
Pull up your hoods!
I don't want two wet children in school!"
"Mamma! It's snow!"

"Oh ok!"

School girls rush across the road
Only to dawdle at the corner
Eyes closed, faces upturned,
Tongues sticking out to catch
The falling snow.
They giggle helplessly.

A boy -
No jacket, no coat.
White school shirt and black striped tie.
Wet and bedraggled.
The flakes melt into sodden cold.
He ignores the snow.

It swirls and speckles the air.
"Look - they're wearing umbrellas!"
Vidisha giggles, pointing,
As parents duck to avoid the snow.

Commuters wait for the City train upon the bridge.
Long black coats -
Mandatory City wear.
Black umbrellas held aloft against the snow,
They stand, in silent line.
A red umbrella bobs by.

The children, laughing
Turn into the school gates.
Goodbyes are quick and short -
"There's snow in the playground, Ma!"

I walk back through the snow -
Damp hair, cold nose.

White apple blossom,
Golden forsythia
Weeping willow in palest green -
The colours of spring fade away.

Winter returns.
Stark, bare branches.
Leaden sky.
A sudden flurry.
Snow flakes dance in frenzied joy.