the snow has melted around a manhole cover some will think it’s spring
we follow patterns developed over time that we can’t live without
if you’re not growing maybe you’re lying dormant waiting for your time
in the future we will have gotten to the end of this short haiku
even though i know i will often still wonder where do those tracks go
outward appearance only matters so much, it’s what’s inside that counts
a surprise awaits an etching by the cold night in frozen beauty
the sentinels stand quietly, to protect us in catastrophe
the only constant in both waking and dreaming is the narrator
footsteps squeak and crunch on a thin blanket of snow in a winter snap
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