Enamored by the fresh coat of winter,
I will now let my mind flourish.

For so many years,
The drought has led
Me to the desert,
Crawling to compose
A soothing sound,
A particular wave.
The area speaks
Of harmony within a
Torn down cave.

The sound of rocks
Placed aesthetic
Occurs within the mind of winter.
And the flakes of bleached out color
Fall
Closer
To the whispers of the storm.