Snowfall in D.C. The cold mi...

Winter in D.C.

The cold misty winter air seeped through my leggings,

as my sister and I cried to my parents, begging.

It was just the beginning of the snowfall in D.C,

but the idea of walking around for hours in the cold was beyond me.

I tucked my hat around my ears,

Growling at my forceful peers.

The tiny monument grew larger from museum to museum.

The moment it got large, we were only at the bare minimum.

The misty air turned into snow so sneaky, like a spy,

that when I noticed it really caught my eye.

Taking pictures in the snow was very relaxing,

that my sister and I soon forgot to continue asking.

We built a snowman on the lawn,

of where our founding fathers’ legacy lives on.

The more frequent snowfall fogged up the reflection,

in the beautiful pool that typically showed a great projection

The sky was slowly falling, the sun left just a peep,

telling the world it was soon time to sleep.

The snow kept falling, surroundings becoming more quiet.

The sky turned purple, what a view. It was hard to deny it.

Our feet were aching, but we did not notice,

as we made our way up to the statue of the sixteenth POTUS.

Walking up the long steps might of left us dazed,

but it was worth it, to honor the savior of the slaves.

We said our thanks and left in a taxi,

to the home of the big guy, who was at the time in Tallahassee.

As it was December, Christmas was near.

The Trumps decked out their yard, it was truly sincere.

The large tree was decked with colorful lights,

while miniature versions amazed American sights.

The moonlight on the snow shined brighter than a gypsy,

as we admired the small trees decorated per state, all fifty.

The night ended with us all tired and sore,

just standing at the White House as the snow still poured.

In that moment it may have been cold,

but looking back now, we would never trade that moment, not even for gold.

We walked back on the empty roads that were so slippery.

We admired the capital that was filled with so much history.

Cherry blossoms in the spring may be iconic,

but something about something about snow in D.C. was just so ironic.