The winter’s first snow—about five inches; but less like a snow than pellets of ice. The brook immediately behind our house is hemmed in by the ice and snow, a narrow channel that makes the cold water run all the quicker.
····in her mother’s steps—one trail
·········· in the snow
Remembering when my daughters were younger. So much easier in deep snow, when you’re little, to follow in another’s steps.
····the snowstorm—the crows are still
When all else is white, even the evergreens. Juncos visited under the bridge, looking for fallen sunflower seeds.
53: December 29th 2015 | bottlecap