Piles of mush, once icy white
Now discolored and soft
Resting on the field.
Where is the cold fortress?
Dreadful moments in the snow,
Numb fingers and a red face.
I was longing for warmth.
That was when the sun came.
Looking at the mush I wonder
Why was it hard to say goodbye?
The snow strengthen me
Taught me how to survive.
The meadows are green,
Music of birds filling the air
Water seeps into the soil,
Flowers blossom again.
