|End of the Road|
A light frost covered the green bloom of spring while I laid sleeping.
The frost covered trees had raised clenched fists of leaves in protest. Stealth spring flowers clutched tight, hid their colors. I could see the forest for the trees, as each blade of grass was etched in shades of white and gray.
The frosty blanket slowly withdrew as the rising sun made its way across the field, sparkling dew drops were left behind in its wake.