a quiet walk. thoughts falling back to gentle and sweet memories.
trees, whose voices speak to me in a silent language, stand
winter has a voice so quiet and peaceful, as it blankets it's soft and white delicate drops of life
onto dry lands
and saddened hills.
it's history is from far away, delicate and beautiful as well.
children walk in the snow as if they have known it forever.
i wait for the summer sun, but beyond the hills of snow is the image of myself
playing in a beautiful white wonderland, years ago,
talking to the little birds, their sweet voices are like angels