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A winding road,

Seemingly endless.

Bright white all around,

Where the snow and the fog meet.

As if it were heaven,

And all that remains of Earth,

Are a few stones, rocks,

And trees looming from the thick, white fog.

Peaceful feelings and sighs of comfort, all around,

As the radio of the car,

Fades away and I drift, floating,

To my own little world.

Peaceful, silent,

Thoughts every so often roar

Above myself,

Lying in the safety of my own mind.

Though great this fantasyworld is,

The real world is more interesting….

A winding road, seemingly endless,

Snow on each side.

My mother, my brother, my father,

My dog and me,

Off on an adventure