We escaped late winter 

treading snow in light shoes

with heavy steps

now from time to time

we dream of cold

and phone suggests

to look at the memories

of moody dark abandoned land

where pure fresh snow

covers up the dirt each year

blinding us momentarily 

until that one day

when we ran away

from melting innocence

revealing the true colours

coming through

the shattered glass

nonetheless – 

the spring will come

putting all this dirt 

to good use

white flower buds

will sprout with vehemence

and peaceful days

will recommence