Winter Memories

Once again returns that bitter cold,

That frosty air, that winter old.

Yet in our hearts still burns the glow—

Warm love, the breath of long ago.

On sleds we’d glide, on ice we’d slide,

Slowly toward the school we’d stride.

We’d break the icicles from the eaves,

Eat them like ice-cream winter weaves.

Now we’ve grown, the years have flown,

No longer rushing schoolward, known.

No more mischief, no wild run,

Nor slipping on the ice for fun…

Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi student at Tashkent economics and pedogogy university