On winter nights the dead walk the iced grasses under the chilled skies. Their immortal breath creates a fog in the petrafied air. The snow freckles fall onto their glistening bone fragments and desintegrate creating a canvas of moistened skin. The follow the warmth steaming off the bodies of their descendants. Home is calling the forgotten, frozen souls and they will forever wander to it's voice.
A Home Never Found
April 23, 2009