Walking on fresh snow
I only hear my soft steps
With geese calling out on the river
Ever so softly with grace
Even the sun is slow getting out of bed
Sometimes those covers feel so soft and warm
Like this forest does with a blanket of snow.
I become the first footprints
Leaving my mark
To later be found
On another silent, snowy day.
Visit Marcie the originator of Sunday Strolls. Her Quiet Country House in Michigan is always a treat to visit.