During the cold afternoon, I took some of my students outside to bask in the Winter's day. They complained and shivered (we were without coats!) What do you see, smell, hear, touch, taste...listen, I said....listen.
They stopped complaining and shivering and stood in the vast white field in utter quietness and took in the beauty. Here are the results:
Frost condemns my soul
Trees silently wave in wind
Snow melts in my palm
Glimpses of white snow
Chilling me straight to the bone
Freezing off my nose
Snowy ground outdoors
Fragrance so bitter and cold
Wind gusts sweet and aged
Ice glaszes calm pond
Snow crystals fall from the stars
Frosted breeze chills skin
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.