March Archer Poet Rhyme

Snow

sheltered, away and hidden 
my wooden dome, it creaks and shakes 
the cold rain turns into soft glitter
and gently lands right on my face 

deep in my mind, my teacher’s echo:
“what is the color that shines bright?”
some would say red, some would say yellow 
but i thought snowy, pearly white

and in the morning i would wake up 
to clouds that lowered to the ground
if i could run out there stark naked 
and glide on roads of tiny towns 

i missed the the crisp scent in the air
i longed for rosy cheeks and nose 
the way it settled in my hair 
heaven had never felt this close

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