I squinted out the window
At snow white roofs,
And silent street.
No sound of shod hoofs
Nor patter of feet.
No squishing to be heard
Of black rubbered wheels,
No children's laughter
No childish squeals.
The only sound heard
The squeek of my bed.
When the cold is gone wake me,
When there's sunshine instead.

12/26/2003

Posted on 12/27/2003
Copyright © 2025 Charles E Minshall