Personal Essay

The powdered snow sleeted down the mountains, as out tents shifted in the icy winds. My eye lids growing heavy with memories. Drifting off into deep slumber.

Trudging through the thick snow my boots became damp as I started to shiver, goose bumps littered my arms like the stars litter the sky. Wishing I was back home with my parents the warmth of the beating sun as the trees danced in the summer breeze. The giggles of children and the sweet smell of watermelon. July fourth is where I wish to be. As small nieces and nephews’ splash in the paddle pool, beers and popsicles blanketed in ice sit in a plastic cooler.

The cold air frosts my tears before they have time to run down the length of my cheek.

The sun beating down as mom plays patriotic songs on her grand piano. The grass seems to dance as the trees start to smile, her music was like magic.

I sit at the snow covered piano, softer than a flower petal. My fingers dance along the keys, as I try so hard to commemorate the happiness of my old life. Snow flaked tears rush down my face trying to dodge sleet, amazing grace rings from the un tuned piano as the stretch bar vibrates with the brass lid.

Slowly waking up as the dim sun shines through our tent flaps, all I can hope for is home.

I think of the beautiful places I have seen and the faces I wish to see.