Day 302: The Tracks We’ve Made

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∴

we walk in sun-lit residuum of storms,
trudging in the deep drifts
and heaving happy breaths;

look how serene
hidden ditches seem.

 

the paths are creaking, clicking, poplar sticks
with plops and wounds of weighted snow.
these birds that didn’t fly,
whose being
only branches know.

 

we circle ‘round the great oak heart,
more rings outside the tree –

ripples

ripples

on the ice

how time expands from thee.

 

our trail needs turn to stay the course

and back to home we’re bound

but changed by all the tracks we’ve made

upon this squall-scarred ground.

∴

 

 

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