The air is cold and bitter,
the windows shake and shiver.
The kids have rosy cheeks,
snow angels left in the ground.
…avoid the yellow,
she wants to call.
The dog grins guiltily at her feet.
In a few moments, she’ll call them inside.
For now, let them enjoy their time.
AN: I do know it’s no longer April. I forgot to post the rest of my backlog yesterday. So, pretend like it’s still April 30th, and enjoy the eleven poems you’re about to get. Oops?