A winter poem
My shadow long in slanting sun,
Casting forth before me;
Shadows left behind of different suns.
I foray forward
Over ankle-turning fospel holes
Once carved, now frozen,
Filled and covered over
With insubstantial individual
I fly on dragon wings
My body hot from walking
Melting snowflakes as they land
As I survey my treasure,
Tread the boundaries of ice,
Plant the first of many footsteps for this year.
Sentry guards of spiky frozen fur on lifelines
Given to support this new world.
There is stillness and calm as the snow falls
And the only sound my crunch of boot
In a quiet world.