by Grace Pappadellis ’29 on December 11, 2025
Portfolio - Poetry
Fitful night sleep,
flitting of birds,
they dance like tree ornaments in a cove of blonde light.
I watch from my window,
the streets are bleak and clean.
Will the snow fall as it did last year?
My lively breath has been rapid and full of anguish,
let me stare at the sky.
A glimpse of a star
created a blanket for my heart, a quilt of fabric, spun from moonlight,
the fairytales you read about,
threads of light, feathers, flakes of ice and snow.
Spun around, fast and blizzard-like,
the colors are tangible, clear, the material falls over me,
protective, sheeny, its magic cures me of my restlessness.
I can sleep with the intertwinement, the rays of the moon, all in one place.
I don’t need snow as I did last season.
I would never turn down its arrival,
only delegate it as another layer.
Moonlight trickles in through my window,
Winter will never be the same.