This was a poem I made several months ago for a project in school.


Norway spruces to the slim white steeple,
The banks of snow like the bronze image of a hero.
Between the winter landscape about us and to my surprise,
We dropped back into our usual silence.

I became aware in the dusk that he had turned his face to mine.
I waited a moment for an answer that did not come,
But at sunset the clouds gathered again, bringing an earlier night,
And the snow began to fall straight and...