A clean snow fall.
As I walk across the parking lot towards my car,
the lone streetlight flickers off.
I make a wish.
I wish that this snow will never stop.
It buries everything deep.
And soon my footprints will disappear,
the only thing that remains
is a memory of where I've been.
I hit the light.
I turn left.
The radio chants another pop song.
You're just a memory my phantom friend
left behind with the tire tracks.
What's your name again?