Walking on the crust of snow,
three firm steps, then down I go,
boots punching through. I flounder on,
reach solid drift, and walk upon.
Now striding high and fast am I,
now sink knee deep, socks ankle high.
Though frozen and wet right to the skin,
though socks and sleeves have let snow in,
I walk on, hoping the surface will hold
and let me make tracks above the cold.
-HJ Feb, 2010