a poem by one of my advanced students:
His Winter, My Winter
His winter is coming
Jingle Bells welcome him.
My winter is coming
Alarm wakes me up.
His winter is coming
Everything he sees is white.
My winter is coming
Everything I have is black.
His winter is coming
He eats many kinds of fruits.
My winter is coming
I eat a hamburger.
His winter is coming
He is throwing a snowball.
My winter is coming
I’m just holding a pen.
His winter is coming
He gets a gift, a toy.
My winter is coming
I get homework, a report.
He and I are the same person.
He is a child and I’m an adult.
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