by Ginger Sanders

Created on: October 29, 2010

The First Snow

It comes like a thief in the night

Blanketing everything

We wake to that special silence

And we know all outside is white.

I think I am a true local

I play in the rain

I buy organic

But inside I’m the girl from So Cal.

Who cannot take the snow for granted

Raised with no seasons but sun

I dance and catch flakes on my tongue

I am enchanted.

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