The meaning of winter (a poem)

The February 17th prompt in The Daily Poet, by Kelli Russell Agodon and Martha Silano, is to list memories of winter, then write a poem about them.

Can we still call it ‘winter’
when it’s sixty degrees Fahrenheit
in the middle of February
and snow is only something we hear about
on the evening news that nobody watches anymore?

When I was a kid
winter was eight inches of snow
a fire in the fireplace on a December morning
‘Photograph’ playing on an AM radio
hoping school would be cancelled for the day

Boots, muffler, and gloves, with a knitted cap
that would be damp with sweat
within an hour or two
after snowballs had been thrown
and snowmen duly built

Back home before dark
ready for a hot shower
and cups of hot chocolate
drank while standing in front of the fireplace
and a newly built fire

(17 February 2015)