Wintery gateway,
Who knows what through it we’ll find
And branches entwine
|
The forest silently awaits
Crunch
The trees move little in the wind
Crunch
Look down at my feet
Crunch
Look back at the tracks
Crunch
Of snowshoes on my feet |
Berries, pop of red
They’re a small bit of color
In winter forest.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment