I sit, wrapped in quilts,
peering out my bedroom window,
searching for a red nose
and the jingle of silver bells.

The trees are laden with snow,
and soft flakes are falling
as I watch, glittering
under the streetlights.

I pull my woollen socks
over the hems of my flannel
pajamas, shivering despite
the pile of quilts I’m under.

I hear my parents mumuring
and the wind’s low song,
but the world is white and still
before my heavy eyelids.

I sit, wrapped in quilts,
peering out my bedroom window,
searching for a red nose
and the jingle of silver bells.