she rushes in the room
to escape the beautiful downfall
of silvery snow that sticks to her hair,
her breaths comes out in small puffs.
her smile graces me, as she laughs
and licks a single snowflake
off of her nose.
she is my happiness and my
home
YOU ARE READING
Motel
Poetrywhat is a book other than a motel where I check my thoughts in and you check them out? a collection of poems I wrote but never published.
