Snow Angel
by Ralph Fletcher
It’s
easy to make one,
lying
on your back
in
the newest snow.
You
sweep your arms
up
and down to make
a
pattern that looks like wings.
Later
you forget your creation,
go
inside for some hot chocolate.
That’s
when she rises from the snow,
takes
a feathery breath, tries out her wings.
She
skims over frozen lakes
like
the faintest handwriting.
Later
when you climb beneath the covers
she
peers in through your frosty window,
happy
you called her into the world.
from
A Writing Kind of Day