And It Snowed

Pure snow, white as the clouds in the sky, collects on the frozen ground. Frost adorned tree branches hang, flimsy under the heaviness of ice and cold. A lone wooden swing stands, tiny flecks cover it’s surface. The flakes stopped falling by now and all that was left was a desolate display. I bound through the snow, leaving my footprints behind, soon to be covered by more snow. And I disappear into the light.