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RW Dennen Sep 2014
You walk the whitened snow
in overcast-shadowed delight
You look back seeing
where your tracks traced you
from where you were before,
like words written on
snowy white paper
holding memories
gone by...

Your mind slowly
backtracks
to places only moments ago,
where small inclined drifs
on each side
reminded you
of miniature mountains,
you were a GIANT
in the middle of a tiny valley...

Sounds became muffled,
your planet became
transformed into another world
Silence prevailed,
brief shrilling sporadic gusts
nipped at your nose, nipped at your cheeks,
and had painted
your living portrait red...

You had felt your feet
crunch down
on the newly
softened snow,
its sounds created noise
that crunched LOUDLY...

In some places,
your wider lifting strides
became arduous,
they became wider in deeper spots,
but you did not mind...

This whitined fact
almost held by fantasy
ridiculed everyday life,
silhouetted trees
reached their bare arms upward
like black grayish winter phantoms
against the white horizon,
against the gray sky...

Tiny windy whirlpools
-ever so often-
danced around your feet
in a soft swirling
celebration
of your delight...

Charmed by your exploration
you had embraced every moment
Clever in your adoration
you now invoke this poem,
distinguished only
for the astute...

...Provoked by this flurry
wisdom and wonderland,
you now turn slowly
around then forward
Now realizing you have
just left your memories
and poet's signature
within those very backtracks
you have just left behind...     .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .'

— The End —