Concrete language

The swirling snowflakes, each one unique, landed lightly on my tounge. The bitter, yet refreshing, feel of the frigid air. The never ending gray sky’s, and the cold-fridgid-stinging snow. So deceiving…….. You take one look and you think to yourself, ” wow, that looks really soft…. Like a cloud!” Then you reach out and touch it.
It’s hard………..rock hard.
It melted then froze back together forming one big ice sheet covering everything. Like most children, I decided I would run around and break up the ice. I had fun until about 3 hours after that when It all started to melt away, flooding the yard and making it mushy-like pancakes after they absorbed too much syrup.


Christmas is the smell of gingerbread and peppermint in the air,
the warm of the fire that penetrates the frigid winter wind,
A brightly lit noble fir that sits in the corner buried in presents,
The sea of wrapping paper that litters the floor,
Excited screams of children as they play with brand new toys,
the exchanging of hugs,
Hot coco and all the sweets you could ever eat.