The snow beckons outside. Paths have been shoveled, roads have been plowed. There are still vast backyard stretches, even fields, which call for snow angels.
I remember years ago
Fresh fallen snow
In the moonlight
A smudge of tracks
Tiny paw prints,
Thin line connector,
One mouse
Braved the journey.
Today
In the sun
In places no mouse
Even squirrel
Has dared to run,
Vast blank fields
Of snow
Call like Circe
For snow angels.
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