Waiting for Friends

There’s a nip in the air,
There’s a frost on the ground,
And my boots meet the grass with a crunch.
Yesterday’s rain
Lies in puddles of ice,
Which I crack with a stomp and a scrunch.

A weak winter’s sun
Shivers beams on the bench.
But it’s too cold to sit, so I stand,
Stamping my feet
With my hat pulled down hard,
In each pocket, an icy gloved hand.

There’s a shriek and a wave,
There’s a shout and a thud
As a football flies right past my nose.
And I run with my friends,
Breath steaming and warm
From my head to the tip of my toes.