The best part of winter is getting out in it. Here is a poem from my morning snowshoe walk. Enjoy!
Winter Walk with My Senses
I waited too long to catch the frost
the day had warmed
and the trees were dripping,
the white beneath the trees pockmarked
with each droplet that let go of its host.
The snow packed in my snowshoes
until I walked on platforms.
The deer have been around
digging for morsels in the field
then resting in beds in the woods.
My tracks would make easy trails for them.
An owl called
at first he was unsure of my funny talk
with long pauses between inquiries.
Each time I started crunching steps,
I patiently waited then
touching the hanging drips on the low hanging branches
feeling the smooth, liquid as it flattened on my fingertip
and flowed down my finger.
I tasted the sweet, cool drips
licking the branch to release the drop
onto my waiting tongue.
Owl I persisted
speaking different dialects.
He got chattier
changing his lilt and speeding up his vowels.
Squirrels and chirpy birds flitted around me.
A red flash of cardinal flew by
as Owl and I got friendlier.
We talked for a good 40 minutes
until the hawks got curious
rimming the field edges
screeching their long wonderings.
A beautiful walk on a beautiful winter day.