Winter Walk


I walked along the wooded trail
     On one bright winter day,
Like one whose fingers follow braille
     To hear what it will say.

A rivulet ran at my feet,
     A narrow, fitful stream.
Alone like me, no one to meet,
     It wandered in a dream.

The path ran through a maze of trees
     Adorned with pale green moss.
They felt the cold but did not freeze;
     The grass was tipped with frost.

My solitude was broken by
     The sound of birds at hand.
Each darted from its nest to fly
     Across the dappled land.

In time I was content to turn
     My steps to home once more.
I took with me what I could learn
     From wilds beyond my door.


©2016 Michael Fraley




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