Melting ice drips
Melodically, striking the ground like music.
It continuously drips toward the
Same spot, music never
Stopping. The song is always
The same, sorrow. It’s like it
Won’t ever end. The drip of the
Icicles border the rest of nature’s
Sounds, opening up like a budding
Flower, ready for ruin.
The crumpled leaf is frozen
Solid, slowly melting. When all
Is gone, it will start
Over again.
