It was on an icy morning when
I hurried back inside --
To grab my coat and money --
Then I scurried back outside.

I walked along the sidewalk while
(Beside me in the shallow snow)
My shadow shook; it slyly slithered
To escape my sliding toe.

The little shop was almost empty,
But I knew it wasn't closed:
The people must be back at home,
Not wanting to be froze.

I bought a stamp and stuck it on
The outside of my letter --
To send it to my oldest friend
(Whose friendship just gets better).

His parents didn't want me there
(Inside their house, I mean);
I had to leave 'cause I was different
(And make new friends, I mean).

And so I sent the letter,
And I hurried on back home.
But I don't know why it's like this,
Beneath this snowy dome.