by Parthiv L. (6th grade)
He looked out at the snow and ice,
As a cold wind whistled winter
Through the door, bringing hope
Of making a real-life snowman,
A special friend for a lonely boy,
At least in his world it was so.
He ran out of his room and leapt so
High, sliding down the banister as if on
Then, putting on his boots and scarf, the
Flew out the door into the depths of
Laughing, scooping, sculpting his
His pal, his accomplice, his hope.
He rolled about without a hope
Of caring for the cold, and so,
Wrapping his scarf around his snowman,
He skidded about on sparkling ice
Losing his boots to the big mad
And there was no happier boy.
A solitary but cheerful boy,
No others there to spoil the hope
Of finding secret delights in winter
That only he believed in so,
Secrets long buried in solid ice,
Yet found inside a snowman.
He danced and chatted to his snowman
And he in turn smiled down at the boy,
Complete with carrot nose and eyes of
It filled his heart with warmth and hope,
Showed him the meaning of life, so
Full of love, in coldest cruelest winter.
Back inside, he looked on winter
Watching his own precious snowman,
And though the fire roared and sweets so
Tempting filled the senses of the boy,
Nothing gave him more joy-filled hope
Than gazing on two lumps of ice.
The darkest winter that lies inside a boy
Is brightened by a snowman
A light of hope that friendship gives so,
Through frozen ice.
The Leaves Make Sounds: Shape-Shifting Beings
PS122, Queens, NY
Bertha Rogers, writer‐in‐residence