Snow has always had a unique quality to it, in that its arrival expresses a combination of pleasant, yet bleak sensations due to the lightness of its pure appearance and the cold weather which is inevitably a part of the experience; this quality made for an especially interesting happening one winter morning. Having awoken to a fresh coating of the white, fluffy powder at a friend’s house, the first thought to enter our collective minds was donning our coats and gloves, and dashing out to explore the exquisite beauty of the scene. Snowballs zipped over our heads, hills threw us along with vociferous fervor, and a snowman came into being before our eyes. In the midst of all this excitement, we were too preoccupied to notice the snow’s icy fingers as they crept into our down-encased souls. However, only a few short hours after the excitement began, the cold began to achieve its frigid goal and we were forced back indoors, the wonder of a midwinter’s day quickly robbed from our once unsuspecting minds.
A prose poem