Wednesday, January 18, 2012


                                                                                         Photo from
Snow that isn’t pretty anymore
Lies exposed to sand and salt
Beside the city's travel-ways
Ones we drive here, anyway

Cold water calls to the snow
Along roadsides everywhere
Through a slippery shell of ice
Winter invited the snowflakes

The pathway along winter’s river
Pressed and crushed by footprints
Offers proof that invisible others
All passed this way before me

Even though I only feel me
And don’t see anyone else
I am connected to them all
Through my own footprints

The widgeon have all ducked
Into the river's marshy edges
And they whistle as I walk by
Through the falling snowflakes

I stop to watch the river snatch
Then hide snowflakes that fall
Unnoticed beside brown birds
Floating in their important world