A Winter Walking

Sometimes...
When I am walking
I can hear my footsteps talking
Their sound is almost stalking
Like a winter cabin locking
Locking out all the dreary cold

But when I start to tire
And stop abrupt to inquire
I just know I feel a fire
Fire like none 'ere before

The doves proceed in singing
Their song so very clinging
Within my ears it is ringing
Ringing stories yet untold

So I will continue going
My hands within my pockets stowing
While my movements continue showing
Showing that my body is growing old

But I do not cease in pressing
Though the cold continues caressing
And the snow is swiftly dressing
Dressing the ground upon which I walk

That day I remembered clearly
Though not so very dearly
For it overtook me drearly
Drearly my death came swifter
Than the snow...