White as milk
Pure and dirt free
Soft and smooth
Cold as it gets
She wears boots and jackets
Ripped gloves and mittens
Canadian toques
Pale face
Dreamy snowflakes
Like feathers falling
Not so cold for walking
Fingers numb
Sipping hot coffee
Crushing snow underneath the boots
House rooftops white
Roads and curbs white
Trees grey and white
Hot breath rising in the air
Indoors seem like paradise
Anticipating Christmas
Missing home and the family
Daydreaming
Maybe in a page flying to the motherland
She can only dream
Like Ed said
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
To fly
Angels to die.
