wasteland

There is the unsettling crunch of something that
Used to be alive, beneath your feet, as you navigate
Throughout the broken chairs. Their tables are
Long missing. There is a discarded picture

Of a couple kissing; God only knows how it found
Its way here. It is faded and torn at the edges;
Representative of how you feel as you shift through
This world and wonder whether anything you see

Is even real. The sky is black, and although you’re
Killing time in the hope that sunlight will attack
You eventually crunch your way through to the
Reality that this world is as good as it gets.

Full of regrets, you question:

How the hell do we escape this wasteland?

snow

The sky is blue until the snow falls. And then
The world becomes a blinding light of a reality
Where daylight seems endless. The clarity of
White forces us to see things

That we aren’t all ready to see. The sprinkling
Turns into the suffocation of a universe and you,
You stand there and watch the snow scatter
Confusion across your landscape. And you
Thoroughly dread the day

When someone walks across your snow.