Winter

“Winter, Dear Winter, ”
An old man once wrote,
“Why are you so bitter? ”
He asked, all alone.

And Winter wrote back,
“It’s because I’m so cold,
That all of my children,
Ran away from home. “

“My, my, that is tragic, ”
The old man wrote back,
“I’ll invite them for dinner,
So they’re not cold tonight. ”

Through tears and through sorrow,
Winter thanked the old man,
Waiting for the time
Her children would come back.

She waited for spring,
Then for summer and fall.
But her children never
Returned home.

Filled with sorrow and grief,
Winter fell down,
Breathing her last,
She closed her eyes.

With her dying breath,
The snow storm calmed down,
Her children came back,
And wept in the snow.