The snowfalls

In a corner of the soul
I kept,
on the day of the first snow,
the white lilies
of love.
In the snow with kisses,
footsteps left traces
of unborn longing.
Today I look back,
there, in the deserted corner,
and I just find
the traces of longing,
but I don't know anymore
from what snowfall.
where are they
the snows
with flakes of love?