For Children

Hannah Bahn

Winter Morning

5th & 6th Grade Poetry Honorable Mention

Icicles hang
from the bus stop eaves.
A woman rubs
her bare hands together,
and shoves them into her pockets.

A small girl and her mother
wait together
huddled into one another.
The mother wraps her daughter’s scarf
tight around her daughter’s neck
completely obscuring her face.

I pull forward my hood,
although I know it won’t go further.
My cheeks are rubbed pink and raw
from the cold.

When the bus arrives,
the three of us run on.
We stumble, obstructed by our thick,
winter clothes.

After we board,
we breathe a sigh of relief,
glad to not be seeing
puffs of our breath anymore.