With feet of ice she pads forward
Alone in a slow March.
Whiteout wind howls all around
As lethargic progress is made
On her slow March to nowhere.
Tiredness takes over
And a shelter must be made.
Snow is moulded and pushed
Into a crystal home.
This snow dune
Will become a tomb
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
With feet of ice she pads forward
Alone in a slow March.
Whiteout wind howls all around
As lethargic progress is made
On her slow March to nowhere.
Tiredness takes over
And a shelter must be made.
Snow is moulded and pushed
Into a crystal home.
This snow dune
Will become a tomb
