My track the first 
on new snow:
each step, with soft 
snap, pressed
a padded button
into a thickening
mat --- snug sensation, 
satisfying pattern --- 
to the corner,
where I turned and

met the wind:
whips to my eyes
and mouth. This way 
all I breathe
is snow. Marks
of my feet, unique 
black-edged under 
the streetlight --- 
where are they?
All blank, all white.


 =Tansy Mattingly