I remember waking
Slowly
The world coming into focus

I sat up
and looked out the window
I saw a bush
without any leaves
red berries smaller than a dime
And as red as a crayola crayon

I opened the window
The crisp air
Billows into the room
I sat there in silence

I pulled my covers off
And walked out of my room
Outside
The sharp air a constant reminder
of winters soon arrival

I walk back
To the bush without any leaves
I pluck a berry off of the branch
I pull it close to my eye
and examine it

I flatten the berry
I watch the seeds of the berry spill out
I drop it onto the dying grass
I go back inside