Christmas Window

The moon is high
the air is cold,
the sky dark blue,
as I sit by my window.

Watching the stars everywhere,
filling the cold dark
air with the sound of the wind
whistling through the bare, sleeping trees.
The birds have flown
and the snow has fallen
just has the eyes of everyone in the house
but me,
as I sit by my window.

I watch the snow fall on my rooftop,
and on the trees and the sidewalks and the roads
and the snow falls on the park
and the gardens in the neighbours' yards,
as the snowy white blanket covers the earth
I start to drift off in to sleep
as I sit by my window.