Footprints Start to Disappear

A blinding brightness;
Cow scratches herself on tree;
Crows call in blue sky.

Green wreath on a post,
Against the bright white snow field;
Somewhere a dog barks.












Now the banks are bare;
The stream flows nonchalantly.
Spring is in the air.










As the snow recedes
Footprints start to disappear.
Where are they going?














The woods seem cluttered;
Trees and shadows vie for space;
Sun and snow conspire.










Freed from ice and snow
Old stump friends face each other
With nothing to say.

A hoarse whispering:
Leaves and stones slide down the hill;
Then all is silent.

Tiny patch of snow
Tucked in hollow of tree--
A child of winter.

There were mushrooms here;
They survived the first blast of winter,
And now they are gone.