the trees stand starkly in the early morning, like x-rays of their summer selves.
they look so forlorn in the frigid air.
a young girl, cheeks pink, walks past me with her mother.
her breath rises before her, puffs of moisture that make me acutely aware of her breathing.
i watch as each of her footfalls sink into the crystalline snow,
she clambers into her car, drives off.
i turn back, to admire her little trail in the pristine white,
and can't help but wish, that just one more time i could leave footsteps in the snow.