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Snow Angel This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   I open my eyes

another winter morning.

school?

canceled once again.

Darkness, followed by a faint light

seen through the spaces between my blinds.

A chill runs through my spine;

bumps arise all over my arms.

Why?

Am I scared?

Of what, though?

I wonder.



Oh yes, it is that boy in the hall

who wears that large gray hat.

He stares so deeply into my eyes,

as I walk past him after second period.

- No - That can't be it.



It is my aunt in her bed

helpless.

Jet black, straight hair hangs down

just above her shoulders.

Sometimes I want to brush it

like my Barbie dolls

when I was a little girl.

She still has a beautiful face

a little older and more worn out than before,

but

she is still so beautiful,

my snow angel.



Life-line tubes,

with shiny chrome stands,

live next to her bed.

They never move away;

they move in closer and closer to her.

Tubes of clear liquid, clean air

connected to her neck and arm.

I cannot help her;

neither can my mom.

We are not capable of such miracles.



I am scared of the future:

the changes that cannot be controlled,

the changes that can be controlled.



I stick two fingers

through my peach and teal striped blinds

behind my bed.

My eyes

watch the magnified snowflakes

fall to the ground

gently,

near many trees

in my crisp white backyard.

How can I be scared

when paradise is here before my eyes?

Do I have reasons to be frightened?

Does she?

or am I foolish?

There is no way out.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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