In 1977, arctic fronts slammed into Florida.
Newscasters reported the word snow for the first time.
School children raced wildly out of class rooms
to catch and taste the flakes with their tongues.
Radios played White Christmas even though
Christmas had passed the month before.
Miami got a trace that was never recorded.
Tampa got two tenths of an inch and shut down.
It was a time of joy—except for the farm workers,
tossed out of jobs like discarded, frozen tomatoes.
The North had huge snow drifts,
complained about the high price of tomatoes.
Salads had less color. Juicy red missing.
Some tables now little food. Stomachs growled.
Decades later, summery Autumn in the North,
belies vicious hurricanes in the Sunshine State.
Originally published in Spindrift Magazine