Winter Time In Minnesota

There are many wonderful things about living in Minnesota or at least being from there, but for me the last thing on my list has always been winter.  I know, right, why choose to stay there.?  I have been asking myself that for years.  For some reason I just can't move.  I believe it is because of all the wonderful seasons and the adventures each one brings.

As I mentioned in my profile I also sell jewelry on the weekends.  Two weeks ago Milwaukee and Minneapolis were hit with a beautiful snowstorm. Large snowflakes floating down like a leaf onto a river bed.  It was warm at 25 degrees.  I fall in love with winter on these days, but by nightfall the wind picked up and the gusts of 15 miles per hour made it felt like -10 degrees.  

The snow fell all day along in Minneapolis which made it slow at the art show.  So by closing time I was ready for a relaxing evening with my grandparents but first came the wonderful task of loading my car back up.  I had navigate the wind, slush, hungry families, and snow drifts.  This is my first draft of the poem.  Keep checking back for the revisions.  I am always ready for comments, especially on a first draft!

Slush Ballet

I open my hatch door,

closely eyeing my trunk and casting

a gaze over into my back seat

I contemplate how each piece is

going to slide smoothly as I hurriedly

walk through the fresh fallen snow.

My tables - one grasped in each hand - 

act as 10lb weights perfectly balancing

me as I preform the slush ballet.

Carefully placing my feet tenderly onto 

the road with a glide and a twist

I dodge the unaware driver of the 

silver BMW quickly approaching valet parking.

I place my partners gently against my

legs and delicately push the hatch door open,

lifting them into their awaiting 

spots - to the left - one on top of each other.

Finishing this act I grab the next

performer - my boxes,

readying ourselves for the comedy relief

as we clumsily, cautiously 

eye the ice packed stairs.

Timidly like a beginner dancer we step 

back and forth unaware of he choreography.

Glancing side to side we move forward

trudging across the dance floor.

I grasp my partner awkwardly, tilting

it to the left side - pushing rather than leading.

My wrists are collapsing against their weight but I save

the routine through reaching the

hatch door, I fling them into their

resting pose - on top of the tables- side by side.

Only four more performers left & the slush 

ballet will be over.

The necklace board, earring display and I 

do a wonderful Morse

dance, jingling down and across knocking into

the car like wood sticks.

The routine is fast like an Irish Jig and

I place them on top of my boxes out of breath.

Leaping back, flying above the snow 

in a perfect ballet arches I beckon my

last two performers by my sides.

We lune up for the Cotton-eye Joe - giddy and 

fast we head out kicking snow and slush up

with our heels.

We reach the car and I swing each on 

my hip and pass them into the car.

Closing all the doors we bow for the 

car, clicking its blinkers for my spot.

Pulling out, I wave farewell to my patient audience 

watching the Slush Ballet.