Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Dust

I get the summer sads
Like others get 
The winter blues
These ghosts that rise
And turn to dust 
Filling my lungs
With memories of you
I hope it snows this winter
One good storm
To hide all that
Is ugly about this year
I want the pristine white
To eat away at the darkness
That is creeping in around me...

~Amber C. Smith 2015