Snowshoes | Teen Ink

Snowshoes MAG

By Anonymous

   Blinding white engulfs

the frost-bitten ground.



Chilly morning air invades my barren lungs,

like helium filling an inflated balloon.



Curiously, I look around,

loathing to disturb this smooth, perfect layer.



Reluctantly, I trudge to the mailbox,

like a pilgrim venturing into an unknown frontier.



Crisp snow crumples daintily beneath my galoshes -

crunch, crunch, crunch.



Glancing back with amusement,

observing my identical footprints.



Squirrels frolic between mailbox and spruce,

bushy tails gently flowing in the wind.



The brilliant sun watches benevolently,

as golden as a feline's eye.



Quiet as a midsummer's night,

my hopeful heart beats a rhythmic dance.



Stop to see this wintry scene,

for moments like this don't last forever.





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