The bite of a breeze,
The wet of the air,
The crystals that freeze,
in your uncovered hair,
The blanket of quiet,
The eeriest calm,
The canvas a riot,
When it's tread upon,
Heartbreaking steps,
on its unbroken face,
The distance and depth,
that remembers your place,
Each footfall now minted,
within a cold cage,
Your wanderings printed,
upon it's white page
Sunday, January 24, 2016
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