UNTITLED 2

Cracks of sunlight barrel down

upon the solemn barren ladscape.

A coat of thick snow

covers the ground and trees,

as if freezing time itself,

the world itself spins too fast and

the cold air tries

to slow everything.

Staring out unto the cold tundra,

it is hard not to reflect

upon past transgressions,

of those wronged or hurt.

Many think of where they are going,

but winter is the time to think about been,

it is inevitable,

it can not be stopped,

your mind can not be help

but wander to the coldest,

darkest,

places of memory.