Celestial Frost

curved, burgundy shovel,
managed by Red.
excavate endless white
sand, waved
on the land –
failed attempts to
be caught by children’s
tongue.
flushed by the weather,
Red ladles, shoves.
scrape away the
sky’s frozen,
powdered tears.
however lovely,
they obstruct the
path home.

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Author's Note: My friend wanted me to write a poem about his profile picture, so this is the resutl of that. I don't know...it's just...different than what I usually write. It feels different. Anyways...

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. :)