pulling on gloves, snow boots and winter coat
wrapping a scarf round my neck, hat pulled low
peeping out of the slit between hat and scarf
with limited vision, moving slow in my bundling

waddling out to the fort, to do battle of the ages
picking up the snow and tasting it, soft and cold
first snow of the season always taste the best
wadding up balls, making a pile like cannon stacks

digging a tunnel as an escape, in case you lose
hearing the villain taking their place, peering out
desiring the first hit, I aim and fire..
making a whistling sound as I hear snowball go
splat, score one for me, I hop up to see

then out of the blinding sun comes the return
hitting me between scarf and hat, a wall of snow
I am down on the ground, the enemy pounces
rolling we laugh me screaming, "I give"
my forfeit being, snow angels for all to see