Snow
Flake by flake
falling softly,
covering the ground in a white blanket.
The trees whisper in the wind—
snow, snow, snow they seem to say.
Smoke is billowing from chimneys into the cloudless sky.
A soft whoosh of the wind—
I watch. I listen.
I look at the setting sun.
It goes down
like a melting ice cream cone.
Through the fog I can see the ocean lapping up the sand.
The moon rises.
I get into bed
as I hear the chimes of winter.
I shut my eyes
and go to sleep.