Free Write For Poetry Club. Warmth.

THis room is reminescent of a warm cocoon. Like when I was a child and my sister and I went Sledding. Our Laughter would get lost in the sky, dancing over tree tops getting tangled up in snow flakes. The Moonlight glowed off our cheeks unaware of the diesel pumping trucks racing down the highway like Demons. We were protected from the world, like a real life snowglobe. Exhuasted and frozen clumps of snow in our mittens, we climbed into my fathers car. Our feet hung over the chair, we were to tiny to sit up properly in the seat. We Shivered and the heater, like calming bath water was so still it was like a lullaby. Like an orchastral sound track we closed our eyes, and to this day we said goodbye.