Come Outside and Play With Me

Come Outside and Play With Me

Involuntary Muscle Imagery, "earworms," to psychologists,

but nonetheless, the song from my childhood

begins its automatic repeat in my head

every winter

when the first snow falls.

Here comes Suzy Snowflake.

"Come out everyone and play with me, I haven't long to stay."

But, I've heard, "I haven't long to stay," before.

From many things that

never knew

when to leave.

I have snowshoes.

I've had snowshoes that I've returned, unused.

I have them again.

They sing, "Come out everyone and play with me," every winter

as I pass them

in the garage

on my way

to anywhere.

Anywhere but snowy covered fields,

pine tree branches weighted down in white wonder,

the place where ground and sky, untouched,

begs for the imprint of a snowshoe.

I'm not the person that never knows when to leave.

I'm the person that never knows when to go.

Come out someone and play with me?

I have two pair, waiting there,

and we won't have to dress in our long, white gowns.