Winter in My Eyes


Victoria Wakeford, Staff Writer

I walk through this land,

As I watch the tiny flakes fall to my rosy cheeks.

I walk through the trees,

As I watch the plants die and animals slumber.

I walk through the frozen crystals,

As I watch the green, lush grass slowly decay before my eyes.

I walk through this frozen tundra,

As I watch the pond of my childhood summers freeze in time.

This is winter in my eyes.

As I walk through the dead oak,

Everything stands still in time.

As I walk through lost memories,

I become blinded by the snow glistening in the sunlight.

As I walk through the quiet woodland,

Silence is fragile to the smallest sound.

As I walk through time,

The flake’s patterns can become clear to the naked eye.

This is winter in my eyes.