I remember this day clearly;
when Shiva was a mere pup of 14,
soft red Husky fur a stark contrast
to the soothing darkening of a
late midwinter's day
As we ventured down the iced path
through the forest teeming
with immense Pine and Fir
past reams of small ponds with the
frosting of rains, frozen
Now glistening with deep ochres
emerald greens and soft blues
As the scent of the forest filled the stilled air
inhaled into our bodies, walking down the
ice-slicked hill, onto the crusty boardwalk, through the
wetlands, trees laden heavily with yesterday's snow
The lake emerging before us, the final
ramp precarious and unstable
upon its barrels in the waters
Across the lake, frozen areas and then movement of waters
as the brook streamed in, and the falls drained away
Out beyond were groups of Mallards
dipping their heads to feed, then sitting up once again
peering at the two of us, warily
As a gust of wind rose up from
somewhere across the land
and came barreling through
Tossing snow down from
the high boughs like some confetti parade
descending, mute, upon us
And the Pines then did sing a quiet winter wind song
of days and nights, season upon season
the passage of time in one place
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