A sodden trip through the memory of snowEmbraces boots,
Exposes roots
And exhales with wet malevolence.
The silver salt lick flash of sky
Brings into sharp relief
The precious scarcity of emerald and the brief
Gasp as summer's fiery pallette lies down to die.
The trail flows through broken bones of trees
The whispering scent of loamy earth
And graveyards marking the brief lives of countless flowers.
