on that icy hill, after the snow fell,
we flew above our dreams on wooden conveyances
passed down from generations. wounded rudder
epoxy bound, steered us into the future.
racing towards eternity, reaching for the sun.
the gripping cold took over as night began to fall.
we were so young then, and now we are so old.
fragile as thin ice, splintered into a thousand pieces.
memories frozen in glass, shards crushed under our feet,
we limped away from winter.