Isabella Belfiore '26
Earth’s crystals hang from the branches of the oak.
Coal is burning chimneys forming overwhelming smoke
Mother left for work in a scarf and just a light cloak.
Father told the kids stories and their faces lit up as he spoke.
Tracks were left in the snowy sleet from various walks of life.
Days like these are serene and free of any strife.
Mother returned home and the father kissed his wife.
The smell of mothers chicken soup was a delightful stife.
The temperature plummeted and the trees were bare,
They could all feel the winter chill that was in the air.
The family curled by the fireplace as father sat in his chair.
The beauty of this winter day was exquisite, nothing could compare.
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