School in the Winter Months
The sky is full of clouds,
Gray like my pencil’s lead.
The wind blows my scarf,
A strong, cold breath.
Sharp, freezing rain falls,
And stings my face like an icy bee.
The grass wilts, yellow and brown,
But waiting to grow again in spring.
Other children hurry,
Awaiting the warmth of indoors.
But I stop sometimes to admire the trees,
Their hopeful branches reaching out to the hidden sun.
The yellow buses scream.
Boisterous children hurry out of their bright doors,
Their cheeks redder than fresh apples.
I walk over the frozen grass,
Flattening under my boots.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch.”
The warm glow of my school is welcoming,
Calling for me to come and get warm.
They may complain about rain or sleet,
But the students always watch for a winter flake.
Just one flake is as exciting as their birthdays.
In Rainbow Love & Service,
Alyssa
Manassas Assembly #13