by Hasini Peyyala
For the poinsettias
The land is desolate
The cold creeps in from every angle
Like dull sand from the beach
It's all so bleak
And lifeless
Untethered, untethered
There's a gap in the space between the grass and the first snowfall
It's masked by the white whole
But exposed by the snow angels and the track prints
Three snowflakes left the clouds
To settle a half-dead tree
To the heavens they never returned,
But made dew on the leaves
And a poinsettia was born
Hasini is a current junior in high school. She is an avid reader. She enjoys writing and playingh board ghames in her free time.