100 Worder: Ephemeral
Angela Haffenden
Hot cocoa with mint
Where warmth and cold collide, I exist. I am ice crystals, flakes, shimmering and falling. I silently glisten on the land, in a pure white covering. Little robin red breast leaves footprints while he searches for food. Children play; making angels, throwing balls, building snowmen with carrot noses, coal for eyes, fallen branches for arms. When the temperature rises, I melt, and slide in slabs from rooftops. Once new and fluffy and full of promise I become black and sludgy. My time on earth is over. I end my time soaking into the ground, nourishing the roots of new life.
About the Author
Angela Haffenden is a mother of four children. She is also responsible for a husband and a dog. She writes mainly to stay sane. She lives by the sea and writes in a cabin in the garden.
Published February 25 2016
