Running through the field
the snow
shows my tracks
until the wind comes
and wipes them away.
It’s as if I was never here.
How do I leave a mark?
How?
Advertisements
Strange Ramblings of an Independent Writer
Running through the field
the snow
shows my tracks
until the wind comes
and wipes them away.
It’s as if I was never here.
How do I leave a mark?
How?