Treading on Frozen Ground

Degradation begins with the first snow.

As if…it and I had, somewhere else to go.

An effect of hallucinogenic thaw grabs a bygone broken bone.

How radiant the fictitious heat?

I hope to never know.

Yet, the struggle from inward calls forth a name.

A yearning for year long travel cannot be tamed.


Scurrying over embankments accosted with previous tread.

To the woods, I am constantly led.

Desperation marks mile one in the sound of Styrofoam steps.

Gawky forsaken rotted pine limbs.

Soon become a threat.


So difficult to gauge all myths lying in surround sound.

Far off crows.

Nesting sparrows.

Noises that are eerily familiar to a wilderness I used to know.x snowy forest





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