By: Anya Li

6 am.

A bright, burning, glowing

ball of light

rises beyond the horizon,

with the most beautiful colors

known to mankind.

Swirls of red, orange, yellow

occupy the morning sky.

Snow falls,

and piles up high

onto trees, grass,

and roofs of houses.

Snowflakes float

in the icy air.

8 am.

As I wake up,

I look outside

my bedroom window.

The sight of all white

makes me gaze.

And as I burst

through my front door,

the frigid air

hits me

like a wave.

I see children,

playing in the snow.

I hear them,

giggling, laughing,

having fun.

I look up

at the winter scene,

and see trees,

swaying to

and fro,

with icicles

hanging

from their bare branches.

I extend

my hand out.

Snowflakes,

with their delicate,

majestic,

unique features

gather on my glove.

I can feel

the frosty

winter breeze,

burning

my uncovered cheeks,

and know

it will soon

give me

a rosy blush.

I notice

the puff of air

I let out

every time I exhale.

7 pm.

I come back inside

after a day

filled with

snow angels,

snowmen,

and snowball fights.

The sensation

of warmth

in the house

travels through me.

9 pm.

The sun sets,

again with

gorgeous hues.

The sky darkens.

As the moon

and stars

start to appear,

and the snow

continues to build,

in the safety

of my own home,

under my covers,

I look out my window

once more.

I then close my eyes,

and truly appreciate,

what winter

has given me.