I set out at first light into a seamless landscape. The earth is silent, save for my rhythmic plod of boots and the cloud of breath against my muffler. I forge a fresh path on an old trail.
I think of my daughter, newly separated, her search for landmarks in a world suddenly opaque, and I know even love as fierce as mine can’t keep her warm.
on the old pine’s snowy branch
earth’s muted longing