Winter is come. It’s the time for cold fingers, chapped lips, red ears and numbed toes. It’s the time for wind so nippy that now matter how many layers you put on, you feel as though you’ll never be warm again. It’s time for the cold that makes your teeth ache, the north wind that seeps into the cracks of your house. It’s the time for a cold room in the morning that makes you want to ignore your mom’s orders and snuggle back under the blanket that feels like a favorite sweatshirt.
Winter is come. It’s the time for hot chocolate and oatmeal in the mornings. It’s the time to curl up with a blanket and a thick, old book beside the fireplace. It’s the time for watching snowflakes whirl down, glad you’re snuggly inside. It’s the time for iced-over roads, canceled get-togethers, and days with your siblings inside. It’s the time for your favorite down-filled winter coat and snuggly scarf.
Winter is come. It’s the time for bundling up and running outside with your brother and sister. It’s the time for snow-angels, for snowmen. It’s hockey season. It’s ice-skating time. It’s the time for driving to a farm with your friends for a day of fun. It’s the time for the adrenaline that comes from lying with your nose three inches from the snow-covered ground, flying beneath you as you race your friends down the hill. It’s the time for building a snowman with a close friend and sending it down the hill on a sled. It’s the time to hitch a sled to the farmer’s truck and let him pull you in crazy figure-eights all over the place, squealing as you almost fall off. It’s the time of catching your sled on a rut and rolling down the hill, laughing so hard you can’t stand up even when the sled has stopped.
It’s time for cold days and fun times. Winter is come.
The trees are bare, their branches cold
As fall fades into winter’s fold
The sky is gray, no blue is seen
Save in snow and icicle gleam
A sheet of glass over the pond
Ferns hide their leafy frond
The birds have left for warmer clime
The tall grass frozen in pantomime
The soft white silence
Fades into the distance
The gentle humps and shapes of snow
Winter’s wind is here to blow