The Way I Came

The Way I came

I can't travel again

for the once-empty snow

now has my tracks upon it
and by walking that path
I changed it
and it changed me

A Gently Broken Ice

Something there is

that finds pleasure in

stepping on unbroken ice

alongside the frozen pond

applying pressure gingerly

like a first kiss

and finding if your weight

can be borne

and then regretting

with a sigh

when you crack through

and it can't be

undone

On Their Way

The leaves

submerged in the bottom of the swamp

were turning gray and then black

dying and turning

if not to dust

then perhaps mush

a brownblack slurry

composed of memories

from thousands of trees

but I caught them today

remembering hints of their former glory

ghosts of the last year

on their way to meet

ghosts of years gone by