Aschatria - Poetry

Miles away, you are on your way,
listening almost nothing,
and random songs,
dialing numbers, hits when scores,
and counting children
down the road.

Drops cried over the sky
and you think that snow should fall,
but it never does.

Down the earth is warm
and safe,
and the ice runs away
over the rainbows.

At my place - the rainbows
jump with the wind...