Winter’s Slumber

By Victoria Macedo

As the wind blows gusts of crisp air,
Howling through the window sills,
You will find us here.

As the snow falls, flurries of crystals,
Decorating the branches of the old maple tree,
You will find us here.

As the sun dies early,
And the moon rises soon,
You will find us here.

Here is where holiday cookies are baked,
Where gingerbread is decorated,
And where hot cocoa is topped with mini marshmallows.

Here is where friends and family are gathered,
With open hearts of laughter and thanks,
And where cold winter days turn into warm winter nights.

Here is the space, or place rather,
Where hibernation exists.

Here is our home,
Short-lived or everlasting,
It is where we are found.

Live in it,
Love in it,
Eat in it,
Sleep in it.

As the wind blows gusts of crisp air,
Howling through the window sills,
You will find us here.

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