valleys where there should be none
grey snow blanketing each and every crevasse
sticking, hardening in the noon day sun
drops creeping slowly, burrowing
leaving a trail of their passing
running here, there as they find
the easiest routes for their journey
stopping temporarily,
gathering others before reaching
their destination
then...
slowly dripping onto the shirt below
staining the soot with sorrow.
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Submission Name: Drops
