Ashes of the bridge burned at dawn lay darkly upon the blanket of fresh snow.
tracks become nearly indistinguishable
wounds covered with forgiveness from above.
naked trees carry their shared burden
as white crowds gather at the crossroads.
steam hisses, spits and growls from the burns snow becoming water against its will, it seems.
strange fruit and ashes blown slightly
winds of change, must be change, inevitable.
smoke curls listlessly, definitely, slightly more snow covers more, ashes on top.
