River of Words: Poetry

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Winter Wind

Rolling, sliding comes the long silver serpent,
His breath frost crystals on the air.
He glides between the trees and nips at the feathers
Of twittering birds who huddle there.

He blows a snowstorm through the woods, and
Leaves a sheen upon the lake,
He slips a freeze into the burrows,
And hidden animals shudder and shake.

And as he slithers sinuously onward
Leaving in his path a wake of frost.
The grey forest whispers, “There goes Winter,”
“For Spring would come , but Spring is lost.”

Madeleine Bennett, age 14
Epping, New Hampshire
Phillips Exeter Academy
Teacher: David Weber

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