Dried whisps crack
The skeletons of dreams once had
to dust and never back

Cool wind tugging at patience
the sun's warmth barely enough to be glad
to have hope without being fallacious
it's a hard trick -- you must be gracious

hold tight to the paths we know
hung on the weak- we shake in the wind

tenaciously we hold
grasping for future bright -- and bold
the future white --  and not yet told

someday you'll share your tale
spread you seed, bask in the sun with glory
but the sun will set without fail
and winter's bitter cold will come for me

tenaciously we will hold
grasping for the past bright -- and story old
the past white -- and yet to unfold

z.m.