Iqra Mohamed

The snow drifts silently to the ground.
My breath puffs out smoke in the air
like tiny clouds miniature snowflakes
kiss my lashes as I brush them away with my soft mitten
My feet break through the frozen ground leaving footprints as I go crunching like popcorn beneath my feet
I drag my sled behind me as the sun starts setting  in the sky the doors open quietly as I am greeted with a hug
   and hot chocolate         
Iqra Mohamed