A white blanket covered the dirt ground a icicle once concealed
The sun shone through the frigid air
deer trot across the arctic meadow
Playing in the snow that brought back childhood
Creating a trail where I crave to follow
Paw prints are left behind as they gallop away from the wolds expectation
Snow laces the bear trees
Shiny clear icicles hang from the window overhang
Lurking in sielice for there next victim
Watching from the comfort of the box I wish to not leave
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.