Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
New York Winter Mornings
New York winter mornings,
bitter, dark, wet.
I trudge through the snow,
my collar turned to the cold and damp.
A lock of hair peeks out of my hat, and dances with the wind,
I shove it back in, and struggle on.
Children play in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other,
laughing, skipping, their cheeks flushed.
I look up at the skyline,
The Empire State Building standing strong,
dark against the grey sky.
I get to my apartment,
stamp the snow from my boots and unlock the door,
hang up my coat.
I look out of the window, the snow is falling again.
Weather report says there's more on the way.
A New York winter morning.
poem
by
Zaila Ayre
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black