Leaving for Work

Morning is a picture again,
With snow-puffed branches
Out of the wind;
With the sky caught like a blue feather
In the butternut tree.
I cannot see the world behind the snow;
But when I look into my mind,
There, with all its people and colors,
The world sits smiling
Quite warm and cozy.


Snow Morning, by Hilda Conkling


Fun Fact: A kind of child-poet prodigy, Conkling composed her entire body of poetic work between the ages of four and 14. Her mother transcribed her spoken work and submitted it for publication.