Bettina Woolard's Blog – December 2010 Archive (2)

We walk in the forest,

Seth & I,

& it's the time of year

when everything's brown:

the bark of the ponderosas,

the carpet of needle & cone,

the dead grass,

certain boulders, the earth itself;

even our dog is brown

& if she didn't move about

she couldn't be distinguished

from her surroundings.

~

I…

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People have walked their dogs here,

there are footprints in the snow

made by human feet, or rather

by the boots or shoes they wear,

and parallel to them,

rows of pawmarks, fore and hind,

left and right,

each dent followed by a slight drag;

some are dainty, as from a matron's yorkie,

others grand, a shepherd's,

rottweiler's, or lab's.

~

Off at an angle, zigzag,

here,…

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