The week has been gray and cold. Along with the snow, it seems the weight of the world was dumped here. Everything slowed to a crawl. The temperaments of people though not surley, they were shadowed in a heaviness. I do not know about others, but for me this week, I have been more mentally exhausted than I have in a long time. This poem today is more of introspection than of nature.

 Trails in the Snow

As problems weigh upon

the shoulders,

so be the grey clouds

above...

A biting cold that gnaws

at my bones

freezing the marrow with

tentacles creeping in...

Each falling flake of snow

adds its' weight in chill

I gaze upon the tracks of

deer and rabbit crossing

the yard...

empty imperfections marring

the white blanket

Then I wonder, from where did

they come? Where do they

go?..

As pure as the reflected sun

and sharp as the shadows

that lay upon this white...

They come from the past and

go into the future...

I think I shall gather and cloak

myself in warm memories of

the past...

I shall travel this cold track

of imperfections

into the future

ccd Jan. 2012