Posted in stream of consciousness

Ash

Is this what becomes of us?

Today freezing rain
Tomorrow a summer breeze

Wind blows along the stream
Rustling thickets
Driving rain

I exist at the funeral
But I float above
Searching
For the right combination
The moment you walked away

I try to redirect you
With empty threats
And promises of gold

As with most things
I fail

RDP: Ash