Winter 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 |