White blanket covering the ground. Impression of past,which were. Now is memories what was.
Again flakes cover the ground. Impression is new. Did I make them? I look around, the answer is upon the blanket of snow where I stand. I am alone and realize the impression were made by me.
I then think about how I am impressing those around me. Do I keep being the same way. Or do I keep trying to put forth for a better impression of me?
Written by Victoria A Witt ( January 5, 2018 )