Literature
Winter
She upends Normality. I step, From laughter, To her. Noticeably, The air Shifts. Though my hair Gets wet, Tossed about, Though the room Is darker here, I can't help But bite back A laugh. To the side, One has a bounce In her step And the other A vivacious warmth. Their lunch trays Hold fruit salads, And beside them, In abundance, Are friends. To the other side, One is checkered hues, Brightens all around her And has few But seemingly good Friends. I sit with she Who has none, Who picks At her stew. She looks at me, And her eyes Are as milky orbs In cats' bowls. She tucks back hair Akin to what falls High above us. It's whipped back, And we giggle. And we chat— Come alive. I don my jumper, Musing to myself, 'She's so bright, Even here in the dark!' My smile Coaxes back hers, Faded from worry; And I wonder, 'How can anyone Hate Winter?'
