Longfellow Redux

Well, the dream is over once and for all! Like most precious images we want to relive over and over, but alas like a perfect blue-pink bubble from my vintage cowboy bubble pipe, it's drifting off forever! Put the cat out, shut down the lights, roll in the bar-b-que grill, chop that last bit of oak, Elvis has left the building-- it's time. We want our 'magic' moments to freeze forever. We want to be able to carry them around in our wallets like pictures of our love ones and an occasional Ted Williams crumpled, rookie card. We're selfish like that. And why not it's lone cold, lonely winter around these parts. That guy Cupo tells me we're getting 2-4 inches tonight. It had to happen sometime soon. But I really 'don't need a weatherman to tell me which way the wind blows'. This morning's gray, silk canvas sky tells me all I need to know. Mom, holding my hand, as we stand on the back breezeway, looks towards the Stanley's and says, "can ya smell it?" "Mom, smell what?" I say. "Snow! It's coming, tonight, sweatheart." I gulp the biggest breath I can.
Heck, even Longfellow's ready here!