Cupped-hands blessed the first winter snow –
That tasted like peppermint wind
The pines and aspens share secrets,
As they whisper what they know
Then, they giggled like schoolchildren
In the snowy playground – with the red
Brick schoolhouse off in the distance
Their cold faces blinked and blushed
Like a basket full of wild freckled strawberries
Suddenly, fresh pine cones fall to the ground;
They chuckle, laugh and then roll over,
Exposing their innocent souls to a fresh blue sky,
This all appeared in the first winter snow
This, I am sure and still are
Poetry
Comments are closed.
1 Likes
1073 Views
Share:
Beautiful! I love the rhythm of this poem, and your personification was well done.
I really appreciate the positive response!
Stu Harley