Honk, Honk, Honk;
a gaggle of geese slowly make their way toward the south,
warning of the brutal winter storm that is coming.
The gray sky threatens to let down its fury.
The long wretched branches of trees stretch out,
as if they are waiting to grab me and take me away.
A bushy red tail appears above the grass, a squirrel.
It sleepily dashes across the field looking for one last nut,
before it returns to its warm hole, in a tree.
A cold bitter wind begins to blow,
making my ears scream for a hat.
Delicate snowflakes begin to appear,
twirling down from the sky
like ballerinas dancing.
Winter is here.
National Poetry Month
Poem Contest
1st Place
