Lonesome is the Snow

An exercise in futility.

Trudging over open snow.

Lonesome for place in which to go.

To reminisce…

while the quiet, that envelopes me.

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If only the silence held…

For all to witness.

For particles of elements.

The slimmest of hopes…

To see.

Still I struggle with a snow stroll.

And, still I will walk, long after the fall.


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