It’s a familiar tale my father spins of my birth
How my mother, full of me, shed her water
In the crack of the night
In the heart of a blizzard
How my father, proud owner of a new car,
Lurched and wallowed that shiny Plymouth
Over desolate, ice-studded roads
Toward the distant hospital
How one final skid into a vast snowdrift
Stalled their labored journey
Cutting heat and power
Safe but stranded in the frigid dark
How he sheltered his overcoat around us
And rushed down the sleek streets
Howling for any compassionate soul
Awake and willing this arctic quest
How in the hushed and still night
Greedy with snow and waiting
We sang of someplace light
We sang of someplace warm
Author Bio:
Allison Thorpe is the author of one book of poetry and one chapbook. She has published in a variety of magazines and journals. She began her career in the 8th grade when her teacher introduced her to creative writing, and she has been hooked ever since.
How my mother, full of me, shed her water
In the crack of the night
In the heart of a blizzard
How my father, proud owner of a new car,
Lurched and wallowed that shiny Plymouth
Over desolate, ice-studded roads
Toward the distant hospital
How one final skid into a vast snowdrift
Stalled their labored journey
Cutting heat and power
Safe but stranded in the frigid dark
How he sheltered his overcoat around us
And rushed down the sleek streets
Howling for any compassionate soul
Awake and willing this arctic quest
How in the hushed and still night
Greedy with snow and waiting
We sang of someplace light
We sang of someplace warm
Author Bio:
Allison Thorpe is the author of one book of poetry and one chapbook. She has published in a variety of magazines and journals. She began her career in the 8th grade when her teacher introduced her to creative writing, and she has been hooked ever since.
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