Cloudy, 53° F
This time of year takes me to one place.
Overshoes with buckles by the door, a sled race.
The excitement and countdown as Christmas draws near.
The tree goes up, it is …
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This time of year takes me to one place.
Overshoes with buckles by the door, a sled race.
The excitement and countdown as Christmas draws near.
The tree goes up, it is finally straight, we cheer.
Snowball fights with the Bent Street boys, so fun,
Someone always throws an ice ball, then we are done.
Smells of the season cinnamon, pine and spice.
Helping Mom make Christmas candy, the fire is so nice.
Loaded into the old green Buick, off to Bonner’s we go.
Seeing all the new toys with eyes aglow.
Jack Frost making designs on the single pane glass.
Swirling snow, drifts on road so no one can pass.
These sights and smells etched permanently in my mind.
A Powell Christmas, no better memory one can find.
Dr. Forest Rea
Grants Pass, Oregon
Former Powell resident
