January & Kittens


In January, the snow is dry
and wind whistles through the bare trees.
The skies look bleak, and streets
are empty.

People wake
from sugarplum dreams
with crisp, biting air
     hanging    overhead.
The cold lingers as
stiff, chilled bones crawl slowly
out of bed.

The year is fresh, but
thoughts are dark.
Light has gone, and people long for the
last year. Because it’s not
easy, starting over.

In January, hair whips with the wind, so
bundle up, because change can be
cold. But still…
    Sometimes it’s good

to start again.


Four little fur-balls are nestled so deep
in the grass, where they mew gently in their sleep.
They breath out in puffs ever so sweet
as soft purrs, like a engines, emerge from the heap.
A pair of tiny ears twitch up
as one kitten wakes, it’s eyes still glued shut.
Oblivious to the world, it weakly hiccups,
and stumbles and trips as it tries to back up.
The kittens won't remember huddling below
the tulips and the rusty red wheelbarrow,
but no matter how quickly the young kittens grow,
their time spent as kittens will never forgo.

Hildagard Gabel
Age 13, Grade 7
Brooklyn Friends School
Gold Key

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