One Winter Night

The stary night sky with few clouds
allows the full moon to shine itself down
shedding light to act as second daylight.

Fresh winter dust atop frozen grass and wrinkled leaves.
I put on boots, a large coat and a winter hat,
and set out on a midnight journey in a new world.

First step sinks, crunching at the bottom
leaving a footprint.

Step by step
further and further
I lose myself.

Under spruce, pine, elm and oak arches
I wander down the lane as the wind breathes.

Down the bending and tilted trees
the moon is glazed over by sheer clouds
with an ominous glow.

Step by step
further and further
I lose myself.

Past the dormant tree walls
I reach the opening to a huge farm field.

The field bare with one dead maple on the far side
looks lively as it's old tough leaves still move
and the branches moan and creak in the wind.

Moonlight, nightlight still shining bright
I walk

Farm field, everything in sight,
it reaches an end as all to be surrounded,
Entrapped by forests and my snowy footprints following it's edge.

Step by step
further and further
I lose myself.

Crossing the line between open and closed
I traverse into a scene that is loud and horror.

All wrecked trees, large and small, scream
Old souls trying to warn me it's near.
But stick-breaking steps muffle the cries.

Stopping cold in my tracks, I raise my head
a dark figure stands few yards away.

The shadow-casted forest gives no color.
Black and white, so simple, but not enough.
Fate unfound, four legged creature unknown.

Step by step
further and further
I lose myself.

One boot raised and it takes off.
A doe with tall jumps and a white tail flicking.

Relieved with a breath of life back in me
I walk around limboing and pulling branches and vines
clear a path to exit the shadow forest.

Back to the open field, I shutter myself together
as the wind picks up and brings in more clouds.

Moon losing life as it is masked
I am sighted by a quieter sky
Not as stary, not as bright.

Step by step
further and further
I lose myself.

The night getting old as I grow with it
seconds turn to minutes as minutes make hours.

Turning around, back through shadow forest and farm field
I take it all in wondering what could've been
and appreciating what I have been given.

It's well and all written in good mood
retracing the footsteps I made.

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