Waking Up On a December Morn

Image

snow on the window

A poem by my daughter, on a cold December, around the time of my surgery–

The calm but quiet wind is making hushing sounds

Animals are peeking and wand’ring up about

Looking out my window with my dog that I had clutched

We see a fresh but fragile blanket of snow that’s been untouched

 

Her poems and stories always touch me. What a great young writer my daughter is.

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