The deathly cold plasters to your skin,
Stealing all the warmth, much to your chagrin.
Whirling snow plays past, a well-tuned violin.
Thin flakes that dance like united kin.
The white landscape is an everlasting photograph.
Children romp through its drifts, full of laughs,
Leaving little footprints like worn autographs.
And so the snow shall keep falling on their behalf.