The Ghost of Winter past.

I remember the soft snowflakes

Delicate as lace

Framed by the cold frigid moonlight

Falling gently to the ground.

Shrouding the world in a pure white blanket

Which sought to cleanse another winter

 

But pure white turned to grey

And the peaceful night became another dirty day.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

snow-1350948_1280

This is my contribution for d’Verse open night.

The image is from pixabay,

Openlink night

 

 

Author: alisonhankinson

I am a school teacher and a mum and a red cosmic skywalker, and sometimes a netball coach...but beneath it all I am a writer...

8 thoughts on “The Ghost of Winter past.”

  1. There is nothing more lovely more magical than freshly lain snow – and then (you are right) it becomes a grey dirty slush and the magic is gone, and is replaced with the fear of falling – well, it is for me!
    Anna :o]

    Liked by 1 person

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