I love the snow
especially in the morning
when I know fresh white paint
dusts my path from here to there
and I can canvas any color i want
any heel shape my foot pleases.
sometimes lazy
sometimes striking
shaking the heavens for a new coat
a pristine glaze to start over again. I want new choices, new chances to begin again.
paint falls and elevates my status, new prints to cover up ancient trials before me. my trails fresh enough to trace thoughts of my own from made from here to there
and sometimes I'm reacquainted with them
on my walk from there to here. Stirring up old memories from a morning that seemed so long ago. What remained Braille for the passerby until
the glitter returns, and even in a biting wind
I know my tracks will lay what I've done and will be different from what I plan
tomorrow, when beginnings wake with something new
I love the snow in the morning
but mostly at a beginning.
