Frosted Mud

This is something I wrote for an english class that if I were in a clearer state of mind I don't think I would post. But alas, it's late, and I am feeling strange, so here it is. I guess it can be good to share things.

Frosted Mud

Frosted mud on days when

windows lie means a snub

and a fallen smile, or

a clever ruse from an

actor. Faces change though

and thoughts linger on in

canyons that go deep down

to the thin heart of things.

Ringing and echoing

for days until the mud

softens and faces rise,

only to fall again.

  

We were trying to keep to two different meters. I'm not sure if I did. I don't understand what's going on in the class.