snow

lonely,
hidden out of sight by the trees,
he sits,
thinking of all the people he knew.
he never notices the drop in temperature.
he never notices when the fog billows by.
and the first flake falls from the colourless clouds
to land on his desolate soul
where he sits and cries
for hours, not realising his surreal surroundings.
the flakes fall harder
dizzying, disorienting
creating a wet, white chaos within the woods.
he never notices the drop in temperature.
he never notices the snow as it falls.