How to Drive in Snow

By Jennie Malboeuf

Within a week of seeing

seven stars in the moon’s

thick ring, it started to snow.

We are already weeks in,

snow deep in corners

and shade, refusing to leave.

At this point, it would be stupid

to call it quits. We finally drove

through town on what felt like

rails at the amusement park

last night — our own tin lizzy

machine. You sped round

the corner to gain momentum you said.

My mother said the worst winter

on record is still ’77 — the year

my brother was born. She drove

to the church in feet of ice just

to ensure a baptism, even

the priest scolded her.


Jennie Malboeuf is a native of Kentucky. Her work is forthcoming in Poet Lore, the Potomac Review, The Cortland Review, and Unsplendid, is currently featured on The Pinch, and has been published in the Southeast ReviewMid-American ReviewMississippi Review, and Columbia Poetry Review. She was recently awarded a Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Award, was a finalist for the Arts & Letters Rumi Prize, the Akron Poetry Prize, the Iowa Review Prize, and was shortlisted by the Missouri Review Editors’ Prizes. She lives in North Carolina and teaches writing at Guilford College.