Oh those perfect winter mornings
With the black silhouette of trees
On that crisp silver sky
And I’m walking down that familiar path
To my grandparents’ house
And though I’m cold
I think of that warm feeling
Of the synthetic tree
And the years of cracker prizes
In that little plastic boot beneath
And my thoughts are of the fantasy hero
In the book I read this time each year
That a friend once bought me
Though I don’t see him anymore.
Copyright © Kerr McAndrew 2016
I am 27 years old and currently live in Edinburgh. I have recently started writing poetry and I am attempting to write science fiction short stories.