When the death-white snow
In my front yard
Turns the same shade as the dirt,
I look to the west and weep.
In my front yard
Turns the same shade as the dirt,
I look to the west and weep.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Originally this was supposed to be part of a cycle of the four cardinal directions, but I only wrote this one. Because I leave a lot of things incomplete. It's one of my few life skills. I have issues.
