Strewn

Chilled, silently strewn over the snow like discarded timbers no one remembers left behind dreams no one wants to know How is it that we have come to this bits and pieces left about for no one to reminisce tatters of fantasy abandoned to a bleak winter kiss Fallen aground nowhere found burried on the surface under white sound no longer seen, felt, or anywhere around Who leaves us behind so hard to find without the hope or warmth of a familiar mind is this how cruel our mothers were, so carelessly unkind