Winter

By: Domitille MARTIN-DENAVIT

 

The frozen trees without their mask

The pounds glittering near me

The wind blows, the wolves howls

Drops of freezing water hit my head, snow

My nose felt like food, something grown in land

My coat of snow closed perfectly

And my hand barely moved

And my legs, my legs, nothing

Tomorrow I will see for the first the bright sunshine

Being built by kids, my days won’t last forever

They named me ‘Snowman’

I guess that tomorrow they are going to name me

‘Melting man’