In the frosted woodland spotlights they danced,
whimsically, of course, as Younglings should,
to a melody of whistling Robins and crispy, crunchy leaves.
And all the while, they plucked blackberries,
staining fingers and lips purple,
igniting giggles,
as sweet as this moment of childhood magic
before the clipping of wings.

Amy Price is a creative writing student from Wales.