First snowstorm romp . . .
Her puppy’s wet kiss
Froze on my sister’s glowing cheek.
The above appears in Miracles: poems by children of the English-speaking world, collected by Richard Lewis. The anthology was originally published in 1966. David Lippu’s age is given as 13, his place of origin the United States. That would make Mr Lippu 60, give or take, should he be alive today. (A Google search turned up nothing.)
It’s a sweet poem, with just a hint of threat. The air must be darn cold if a little slaver of dog spit can freeze on a warm cheek. Of course, “froze” could be poetic license. Maybe it just felt really cold, freezing, you know. Still, I think that’s what makes the poem, the sweetness of the puppy, the play, the affection – and the mild sense of threat, of the harsher, greater world in which this play is enacted.