If You’re Not From Vermont . . .

(a form change poem with thanks to David Bouchard, If You’re Not From the Prairie . . . )

 

If you’re not from New Hampshire,

You don’t know snow.

You can’t know snow.

Our deep snow,

Our cold, cold winds,

Our snow days.

If you’re not from New Hampshire,

You don’t know trees.

They are higher than anything,

Far up on the hills.

We have ice that comes every year,

That you slip on every year.

Yeah, that ice!

If you’re not from New Hampshire,

You don’t know hikes.

Families enjoy going everywhere to see

Nature’s natural beauty.

 

If you’re not from New Hampshire,

You don’t know me.

You just can’t know ME.

You see, my heart is in the hike.

My toes are the tree roots that stay.

My hair is the breeze.

My eyes are the snow, white and bright.

I’ve seen the wind rustle.

I’ve seen the signal tree on top.

My home is New Hampshire

And nowhere else.