It collects like feathers of moonlight into the low sunless valleys of the past into the places where the light is so weak it leaves behind ice when the snow melts The places where the mud is always wet and cold to the touch where the wind that beats back summer sends golden rays of hope in splinters across dead leaves and rot But the snow still settles like seeds takes root and drives back progress drifts like smoky memories from the ashes of the past And it still hurts
Drifting
Drifting
Drifting
It collects like feathers of moonlight into the low sunless valleys of the past into the places where the light is so weak it leaves behind ice when the snow melts The places where the mud is always wet and cold to the touch where the wind that beats back summer sends golden rays of hope in splinters across dead leaves and rot But the snow still settles like seeds takes root and drives back progress drifts like smoky memories from the ashes of the past And it still hurts