Lines on paper you try to match
Drawing, connecting, reconnecting.
You sing to the sky in hopes of rain,
To only get snow.
Blankets and covers hiding the lines you drew in the earth.
White and black you turn away, turn your gaze back to earth...
Under trees casting winding sharp shadows like a cage.
Caging you from the sky.
Silencing till your as quiet as snow.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
RandomThis is a continuation of the other Random Stories. Enjoy and always open to suggestions