The sparkling snow
lingers in the air
like fairy lights did
over Oxford Street.
Hot tea warms
the American chill in my bones,
though it doesn’t reach
my feet.
They can almost sense the hard
cold
cobblestones.
The winter gray is dappled with starlight,
there is comfort there,
knowing you are under the same
twinkling
sky.
These small tokens gift me
Zoltaric hope
that one day
we will
meet again
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
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