ImPrinted

Interiors flooded with blue tears

and ...

No chance of a spring in my step

Burried

Under a sleet of white

the butter cup hides

Firey amber skies

in the West

Mr. Sun

is glad to be gone

Slippery slopes of past fights

And

Memories of Boots tracking

in slush to the kitchen

I cry when

I see his footprint is all he left behind

The forecast is dismal

I wish my heart

was