Winter’s dust gently covered the ground, gently sat on my feet, gently tickled the air around me

It had a familiar smell, a familiar scent, an all too familiar touch

I let it sit on my face and on my palms, I let it resound on my skin

But winter’s dust would soon be blown away, would soon vanish and go astray

Winter’s dust in its comfortable winter grave would soon melt away…

What of my accomplishments, would they also fade away, would they become a forgotten memory of something once warm and grey

Or would they be stilled and frozen in time, so that I could return to them even when winter had faded away

I will not be winter’s dust, will not be winter’s dull grey, will not simply fade away

I will not fade away