Frozen in Time

Am I really so old
that I posed in a snow suit,
knee-deep in treadmarks
behind some fifties-something 
Chevy with fins flowing smoothly 
off the trunk?

My face beams red with January cold,
eyes twinkle, arms hover
halfway to horizontal
from all that padding 
Mom wrapped me in.

Did she snap that photo,
or was it Dad, 
the family photographer,
at a time when my parents
were seven years younger
than I am now?

This winter, I'll stand
in drifts white and glittering,
catching snowflakes on my tongue
'til my stubbled face turns red 
and my brother calls out to me
in a soprano voice 
still untainted by manhood

as he asks for my help
in finding two black eyes
for our snowman.

Scott Speck
09/29/2003