Glass Forests of Our Winter Childhood

Long having left behind our youth,
my brother and I each have children of our own
and a thousand miles between us.
But when snow has softened time and distance,
and ice has preserved crystal clear memory,
and my sons are crashing and crunching
through the winter crusted underbrush
of February's anywhere fields,
I don't have to close my eyes to be transported
to a place and time of walking with my brother
the glass forests of our winter childhood.