A ghosting snow
fine and light
prolongs the dusk
turns all to outlines of itself
along the woodland path
now more evident
in the hush of evening
and its apparitions
here where deer have passed in twilight
and here where grouse have stepped
among the flattened ferns
tracks across my own
that bind me closer to this land
in unexpected ways
as do the tracks preserved
in the cellarway cement
small tennis shoes
that break my heart.
