What the Snow Brought
Icicles on the eaves of our house,
chevrons of birds' feet up the drive,
a redwing, a brace of pheasants.
A herd of deer
moving around our field in the dark,
staring back at our sleeping selves,
then, away through the gap in the dry-stone wall.
Only for prints in the snow,
we wouldn't have known they had been.
Photo:Courtesy of Peter Moore
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