Deep snow

This entry is part 23 of 91 in the series Toward Noon: 3verses

In all this blankness,
a squirrel finds the precise spot
it buried a nut.

Breaking trail with snowshoes,
I choose to believe
I’m half-floating, not half-sinking.

Clumps of snow sail off the trees,
making a random scatter
of oblong prints.

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2 Comments


  1. Just enough here to give the snow some outline. The rest is blankness, as the first line suggests. It’s quite nice.

    Reply

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