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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2070367-winter-calls
by Rhyssa
Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2070367
I want to answer
at my window, through delicate frost ferns
a winter scene calls me—
the silver ribbon of river,
the virgin blanket that came
in the night to cover the land.
I listen to the silent message:

Come join me. The winter
cloak is on, and I wait
for laughter to greet me
bundled like marshmallow men
in all the colors of the crayon box.

other children heed the call
and the air fills
with powdery missiles
that fly over the changing
landscape. forts and castles
erupt from the ground,
populated by new men,
tall and round, with coal for eyes
and long, stripe-y scarves.

the river fills with music
and the shrieks of skaters
dancing in curlicues
until they slip and sit down hard
on their pillowed seats.

a pair of sweethearts
lean into the turns,
moving in sync with her hands in his pockets.
they glide to a stop
near the bridge
where hot chocolate and cider
wait to warm them.

I want to go outside,
to immerse myself in the perfumed air
in chocolate and cinnamon
and the scent of wood
smoke, until my bones ache
and my nose hairs splinter.

but my bed is cozy.
I’m too warm to move.

line count: 40

Prompt: January 1
© Copyright 2016 Rhyssa (sadilou at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2070367-winter-calls