The sounds of snow.

[Amanda Renee Francis]

***this was written last year. I was going through a difficult time then, and this is how I cope. I'm not an attention hog, but am simply trying to share my work. I doubt it will be read but *shrugs*no worries. ;D****

Falling. Falling gently. Nothing is as light as it. Nothing can touch you with out a feeling but provok such a response in you as the snow. She lay in the fields of this place. This place that was once green and lush. Is she still there or simply in another space? This land is frozen in more ways then the snow. Silent and pure, yet deafening and tainted. A gown that was once a lovely grey is now nothing more then a tattered grey brown. She lay there listening. She would find it. It keeps hiding from her but she will find it. What will she do when she finds it? Go through with it? Pale hands lay in the snow attached to the body that feels nothing but feels all. Pain. Her eyes are closed, head turned to the side as she feels the snow against her cheek. Is this her end? The sky has not known sun for so long now. When did she loose feeling? Thoughts swim in her head like sardines waiting thier end in a can. She likes the snow. The sounds it makes whisp through her mind like a gentle summer breeze. Her hand curls. Holding a handful of white powder, then releaseing. Her pale fingers gently caress it. The finger tips brush along it softly as if touching down. Nothing now but the sounds of snow. The sounds of a thousand voices talking, the sound of water rushing. Does frozen water make a sound. What is the sound of rain? Snow. So light it never makes a sound when it touches. But the sound is all around. What does the snow say? She is weary from the journey. She is lost, and knows not how to find the road back. Her fingers draw across something cold with a squeek. Her cold teal eyes open with a curious look. She turns her head to look. There beneath her fingers is a crystaline object. She sits up. Her fingers gently pull back more of the snow. Her eyes are wide. This is it. What she has been searching for. Will she be able to do it? Is this the real one? Or simply a test? an experament to see how she will react? There is a moment of hesitation in the silence. Vigurously she begins to swipe away at it. More and more until she reveals it. All along she has been searching for what is right there under her. A coffin. The glass of it is cold. Ice has frozen on it in feathery shards that seems so deadly. The contents should be frozen, but are not. They look no more disturbed then the day they were put there. Only.....they are warmer. How can it be so warm inside of there, and the frost not melt. She sits and stairs at it for what seems an eternaty. Does she do it? Leave it be? or simply .... walk away? No thoughts. Only the sounds of snow in the silence.