Snow

I wish the sky could be gray, Streets covered by snow. At night after, I sit and pray, I will watch the white’s glow From my bedroom’s window, Then with my fingertips I will draw on the glass: Eyes, nose, hair and lips. If the storm will pass, I will go barefoot on the grass. It was a cold December and my first snow storm. I will always remember When a bowl of popcorn was keeping us both warm.