
The snow may only be a light dusting, but it hurts just the same. Air is sucked from your lungs, as cold knives pentrate your soul.
Winter always comes. Meteorologists try to predict the weather patterns, but they don't ever seem to get the forecaset right. You expect warmth and sun, and that's when the storm hits. When the elements barrage you, no matter how many layers of armor encase you, the cold penetrates to the bone. There is no protection.
But then again, the snow creates a certain calmness. A new found peace enshrouds the soul. You are free from a malignant fall. And the start of winter, brings the promise of spring.
2 comments:
I love the first snow! Wahoo!
P.S. Thank you so much for turning in that assignment! :)
Another interesting comparison. Love you Rissy! Your writings are thought provoking!
Post a Comment