Some days when you walk outside in the winter
icy gusts of wind blast across the landscape,
stinging your face and carrying the snow
where ever the wind blows.

You close your eyes, grit your teeth, shiver, and
turn your back to block the gale

But you smile,
loving the feel of wind in your hair
sun on your face
flakes catching in your lashes.

The wind whips across the snow-covered ground
covering your tracks, erasing all history
any evidence that you were there at all.
It cleans the slate in one swift blow
And starts afresh.

You sigh and continue ambling through the wood,
a wistful smile playing upon your face.
If only starting over was really that easy.