Tuesday, April 29, 2008


Snow, Aldo

by Kate DiCamillo

Once, I was in New York,

in Central Park, and I saw

an old man in a black overcoat walking

a black dog. This was springtime

and the trees were still

bare and the sky was

gray and low and it began, suddenly,

to snow:

big fat flakes

that twirled and landed on the

black of the man's overcoat and

the black dog's fur. The dog

lifted his face and stared

up at the sky. The man looked

up, too. "Snow, Aldo," he said to the dog,

"snow." And he laughed.

The dog looked

at him and wagged his tail.

If I was in charge of making

snow globes, this is what I would put inside:

the old man in the black overcoat,

the black dog,

two friends with their faces turned up to the sky

as if they were receiving a blessing,

as if they were being blessed together by something as simple as snow

in March.

Photo by Krrristyn

Do you have a poem you love, and want to share?

Inaugurated by the Academy in April 1996,
National Poetry Month (NPM) brings together publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, schools, and poets around the country to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of businesses and non-profit organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events.


lisa marie said...

I love the image that brought to mind. :) I have a black dog. :)

ALF said...

Snow on a black dog is so fun!

Chris & Allie said...

As sick as I am of looking at snow in March, I did like your poem. I wish that it were just that though, a poem. Not reality anymore. ;)

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