First Snow (2025)

The first snow and winter has begun,

and with it the cold and the bundling up,

the shoveling and plowing and blowing of snow,

cold hands and fingers, shivering, the work of winter

against the elements, and so we complain, as I am,

bundled warm and trudging down my driveway,

shovel in hand, a long, winding path through the woods,

to clear the remains of the local plow pushing aside

what fell earlier, pushing it into our driveways,

boulders of crusty snow scraped off the road

blocking my leaving, should I have to leave, want

to leave, but the tracks ahead of me, crossing, are not

man-made, no shoveled path, no rugged boot treads,

but the small paws of a fox, canine prints

coming out from my woods and along my drive,

and back into the woods on the other side,

into the snowfall, falling still, reminding me

of the silent beauty of winter, of living here

in the woods, shared, entwined, coexisting,

nature and us, part of a larger world called home.