Late season
snow, heavy and wet and crunchy on top. A smattering of deer hair across the
trail: looking back for the source, I see the melted spot under an apple at
the edge of the woods. Up ahead the corgis have found a pawed up place. They roll
exuberantly in the scuffed grass and leaves. A meager spot for dinner, but a
superior place to squirm out your joy.
The night scene
unfolds
in trail
marks—deer bed, beech nuts.
Drift away at
dawn.
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