• Royal Register

Winter Is Here

Sienna Joshi, Grade 10

The piercing wind dulls my senses,

Naked trees I meet every time I walk home are now enveloped in a bitter frost,

Crystalline flakes of web drop from the sky, scouring every crevice of land,

Signalling one thing:

Winter is here.

I once loved the glittering snow,

Burrowing my limbs in it and emerging with my cheeks flushed and my nose roseate,

The intoxicating feeling when the ice made contact with my flesh.

I once loved opening presents before the sun resurrected,

Torturing my parent’s ears when tearing apart the flamboyant wrapping paper,

Deciding who I would embrace the longest based on their offering.

I once loved drinking candied hot cocoa,

Watching the steam rise and calculating the exact moment of its temperature levelling,

Yet somehow still burning my tongue anyway.

I used to love watching the snow melt, but now I feel like it’s escaping me,

Leaving me without a trace.

Winter is here.

Playing in the snow became hurling heaps of it off of the cracked tarmac,

Building mountains with a brass bleak shovel,

Not caring enough to zip up my parka.

Opening presents became emptying my pockets to buy other people's happiness,

Hoping for an abundant sense of satisfaction,

As if it will matter in a week or month’s time.

Drinking hot cocoa became drinking gingerbread lattes,

Numbing my taste buds with shots of espresso,

Indulging my dependency curated by thirst.

And watching the snow dissolve was a minute, dispiriting endeavour,

I was content with the slush.

Winter is here.

And the cold never felt so feverish.

My head, clouded with rue,

My heart, yearning for truth,

Seasons are fleeting,

And snowflakes will turn to rain.

As if it’s the law when one thing ends, another may begin.

Winter is over.

I’ll meet you in the spring.

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