FootprintsintheWind.com

Footprints in the Wind^sm # 2316

After the meeting
which changed the four of us
these woods offered quieting
I entered by a path maybe I knew
the woods at once grew
to become for me
a forest dark
and fog was lingering
from this morning
still the air was warmer
than the snow
I said lingering, but
this fog was rising from the snow
like smoke
as if the snow were afire
so this smoke drifted along
to the south
leaving the forest
I said smoke, but
it seems a band of brothers
arms across shoulders
walking home
after the day’s labors
laughing, rowdy, tired, dirty
I said brothers, but
the trees, the fog, the birds
were all singing
new songs
in this forest of poems

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