Sardinia Cabins

January 17, 2008
By Emily Day, Brockport, NY

White snow glistens the sledding hills giving me chills.
Bonfire of happiness, and warm, sticky, wet gloves.
Talking and laughing, seven o’ clock, stalking the night.
So tired and wet, admiring each long talk we’ve had.
Each snowflake lands on my tongue, and tickles my hands.
Cold winter bitterness freezing each hair in my red nose.
I’m at peace in the comfort of my fleece.
What a release of cabin heat swarming us with love.
I’m more than a part of the scenery here; I’m one of the skyscraping trees.
Family; we fit together like tight-knit leather.
A home away from home, honey to the comb.

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