...The sun was dull that morning and the colors of the landscape were washed away by the restless wind and scattered shadows. He knew that the valley is only for the dead. He hesitated to walk on...

...She had
always known that
dried leaves
never enjoyed
the ground
maybe she's wrong...

...The afternoon light bled like melancholic Sunday. He feared the rumbling or perhaps feared that he was not prepared. He had hoped for a flood...

...A dead tree stands
amidst everything
It told her
the remnants
of things
that were once here...

...Weary and heavy with the walk, the cold seeped into his flesh. Drying the bones. The shivers slowly choked the sanity in him and he wondered if tomorrow would be the same... Who knows?

...Perhaps it is sad
sad that we
do not know
But... does it really matter?
Perhaps someday
we will
know...