Running into the sunrise on a frosty winter morning...
The grass crunching under the fall of my red, boot-clad foot...
Hair barely dry from a warm shower early in the morning...
The best kind of way to start the day.
The frost will be gone soon,
and in a dozen hours so will the sun.
But isn't it a pleasant day
to have a frosty run?
Scissors to guard my wrist,
as I shiver in the cold.
What happened to my coat, you ask?
It's thrown over my shoulder, quite bold!
But I am silly, writing a poem like this,
just about a regular, ordinary morn.
But what is the year made of,
but mornings just like this?
though its light does not yet provide warmth.
yet their calls fill the sky and echo across the frosty turf.
I stand there,
my boots speckled with frost,
Little crystals of icy drops.
They are scattered across the lawn,
making it glitter like the new-born dawn.
The trees seem dead,
their leaves gone,
Yet, life still goes on.
I smile as I think of the day,
filled with joy, perhaps,
The day has hardly even begun,
We still have our race to run!
|Pea Coat: Costco | Sweater: Thrifted-Goodwill | Pleated skirt: Land's End | |
Boots and Bracelet: Christmas Gifts, from Modcloth.
But these shoes weren't made for such a trek,
as I have ahead of me,
though their laces and soles seem to be strong,
I suppose we'll just have to see.
I stare into the sunlight,
my breath creating a cloud.
I wonder what this day will bring?
I wonder, quite out loud.
The Middle Sister and Singer