A Poetry Prompt from @JoeHills
written by Daniel Powell

When I was a child, the snow would fall
all pure and deep and white.
We'd keep it just so, unblemished and bright,
only prints of deer and rabbits and animals so small.

Who knows how far down we would sink?
The knees? The ankles? Just the soles of our feet?
Later our dad would push it up deep
And we'd join in to slide and throw and shriek.

Now I live alone in a suburb of a small city.
The snow never falls so deep.
And before I get up, whether weekday or end
Some guy with his 4-wheeler that's fit with a shovel
will scrape up the sidewalk and put forth a struggle
and rid the street of that nasty, slick trouble
before I can see it like when we were kiddies.

And because I’m actually quite proud of this one, here’s a half-baked proof of authorship:
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