December Poem by Regan Meade

A freezing chill sweeps though the air;
Powdered sugar is wept from the clouds,
Piling up high untouched by man
It is the first of many at this time;
Trees and animals have fallen asleep
Children play in their yards all bundled up,
Sugar sticking to their mittens, as balls
Fly through the air.
Celebrations are near,
The gathering of close friends and family bring joy
This is the time of sleep and celebration.