lonely walk in snow

what remains when seasonal flowers wilt
and there is no chocolate left on your lips?

it seems we have only the winter sky
void of shooting stars or falling rain

and it is cold when morning crawls out
from the dark solitude of night

i remember when laughter marinated
and at days end it was rich and full

but when i wonder what is left of the day
i realize i can no longer hear the chatter of laughter

nor smell the flowers
or taste the chocolate

there was no laughter after the flowers wilted
and darkness fell like shutters on a cold window

perhaps i will choose to die alone
when november closes it’s heavy door

snow will come and go
taking the white to unknown places

perhaps there I will taste the cold water
I so long thirsted to know