Angels in the Snow
by Laney Giusti '17
Her hands are as cold as the whistling air, banging the shutters and creaking the front porch. She sits by the fire, fingertips hovering over the flames, and watches the speckled lights dance around the tree. Silver tinsel and bells and bows of gold are laced around each branch As a shiny reminder of this renowned December night. Her eyelids grow heavier with each fallen snowflake piling up outside, So she drifts off in anticipation of the morning to greet her angels in the snow. |