Don’t go out in the snow. It’s crimson and viscous. Not at all like it used to be. Once it was pure white and like dust, like sugar coating the landscape.
Don’t go out in the snow. It’s thick and it grips feet and legs. Once it was calm. Once we used to walk through it.
We used to throw it and kick it in the air.
We used to never care that it might fall on our heads.
Don’t turn your face to the snow. Don’t let it settle in your eyes.
It isn’t like it used to be.