The clouds in the sky are fluffy runs
With the imprint of skis passing through them
In perfectly rounded patterns of the experienced skier
And in zig zags of someone who may not be so inclined.

I drive to my next task, the sun burning my face with intensity
And I breathe in the cool spring air that juxtaposes the blazing star.

It's so beautiful and yet so dim.
Those memories fill my mind with a thick smoke of remorse and regret.
Beautiful images turn to ugly truths as I drive down 95.

I turn on the music to hear a good song,
Hoping that my playlist of feel good music will help to lift the burden.
And yet, I'm still caught thinking about you
Amid the overbearing wash of depeche mode.

I love their songs as much as I love you still. It's a forever love that even after weeks of not thinking and not listening, I still return to that hollow yet comfortable place.

My mind rolls on to other thoughts as I roll the window down to aid the wind in caressing it's fingers through my hair. I allow nature to substitute for you.

I only wish the rays from the sun would be as gentle as your touch once was and not harsh like the words that were spoken between us.
And I wish the clouds did not form into such shapes as to remind me of that smirk you held as you skied beside me, so proud of my progress.
And I wish the wind was you instead of simply just being wind.

But instead, as I drive and think all these wishful thoughts, there is not an element to nature that can dry my tears like you.

I sob as the sun presses and the clouds move. The wind continues to caress me and I can only accept the little bit of solace I get from it.

God bless the wind.