flakes and piles

When it snows around here, it ends up looking like this:

But before this, I looked up into the sky and watched it coming down in fluffy flakes one beautiful piece at a time. They were dancing in the streetlights, playing in their fall. They weren’t yet trampled and shoved into filthy piles. It was enchanting.

And I thought of us. And how we were once playful and full of life and enchanting. Before we were tainted by the filthy world around us; the world that we had tried so hard to cover with a fresh and clean new sheen. Our intentions were good. And one day we will melt, and then we will rinse the filth that has been left. Before we only tried to cover it. Next time, we will wash it all away.