Trees are bare and the air is crisp

January 9, 2008
By Katlyn Womer, Oil City, PA

Trees are bare and the air is crisp
Above the white our breath does dwell
We’re about to feel winters cold fist
To run towards the warmth I do compel

Driving by sparkling homes
Far away from each of our own
Where we are going no one knows
Pedal to the floor, we do condone

Times getting late
We’re on defrost
What brought us but fate
‘Cause now we are lost
Can’t escape the change
The chill will always come
Wait now this is strange
In Florida we’ll succumb


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