Winter Poem by Rebecca Richardson

The air is brisk and cold, the wind sweeps around. Ratles the snow. A layer of white runs over everything. Parents are fusterated with it woundering how their going to get to where they need to be. The kids are running threw the snow without the dantiest care. They come in with little red dotties on their face shivering but cant stand but to laugh. The sound of snow crunching under the littlest wieght. Seeing it break. Watching it melt away just to come back in while but you sit their and be sad when it goes each year, even if you hate it you seem to miss it because of all its wounderful care.