Frozen Documents

It's zero degrees;
That does not mean it's nothing;
Still, birds chirp above.

Sun sparkles on snow;
Layer of ice on the stream;
Woodpecker thumping.


Wood smoke rises slow
Tilting gently to the north;
The woods are silent.

Above, a lone crow;
Below, my snow crunching feet;
Inside, aching heart.

Foot prints on the road;
They are going somewhere else;
Where did they come from?

Tracks into the woods--
Indicators of the past;
Frozen documents.



The door is open,
But the house is abandoned.
Who will enter here?

Sky is leaden gray
With shots of sun in the breaks;
The birds are silent.