Winter Wind Poem by Aaron Brown

There is a harsh love
borne with the swift wind
which nips at the noses
and reddened cheeks of children
clad in snow over wool.

On a white-blanketed hilltop,
the children laugh with nervous anticipation
of the screaming plunge
down the steep slope,
Slick lightning ride to the bottom of the world.

The emerging stars wink
to each other and the reminiscing elders,
each busy remembering their own
breathless, brakeless races
through endless bygone evenings of yesteryear.

Darkness falls all too soon
but protests are stilled by parents mustering hordes
with promises of steaming cocoa
and hints about the wonders
waiting in bright boxes beneath decorated trees.

Later, the wind caresses
the sleeping houses of Midnight.
It plays with pungent smoke curling from chimneys,
and the soft flakes drift into
their appointed places in tomorrow's playground.