Winter’s Gifts
Over the years and as long as I can remember,
Winter’s gift of snow came in December.
Winds would howl through the leafless trees,
Jack Frost’s artwork upon our windows to see.
I and my brothers unaware of the reasons,
Simply looked forward to snow in its season.
Out the front window, we hurried to view,
The lushness of the white blanket appreciated by few.
It was the cycle of life that we shared every year,
Winter’s white fluffy stuff we always held dear.
It wasn’t a fascination to those who got stuck,
Or those who had to abandon their cars or their trucks.
For me and my brothers, it wasn’t something to ponder,
As we hurried to get dressed and then out the door to wander.
Down slippery steps, we descended with care,
Hoping to find the excitement we had been told was there.
Snowflakes on our tongues as we stood watching,
The flurries being tossed towards the forest’s outcropping.
It wasn’t our first time venturing into the snow,
Always things to discover, fantasies to know.
In the coal camps of West Virginia this vision we lived,
In a time filled with magical moments if we only believed.
I travel to that place in my mind as I remember,
Windows filled with frosty artwork and winter’s gifts in December
By: Dan R. Fowler
For: Astrid
About the Creator
Dan R Fowler
Dan R. Fowler. 71, writing is more than a hobby, it's a place for me to become anyone I choose to be. my books are on Amazon. e-book paperback, or audible. type dan r fowler on the search line.
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