The sky went from blue gray to gray
not a big change really
but a subtle change
And all those footsteps poems
like clumps of soft furze
against the snow
Crows were hidden
on their branches
beneath the intermittent sun
Can you recall your childhood
when the idea of sledding
was more fun than the sledding itself
To walk along the treeline
inhaling the fresh cold air
arms open to tomorrow
That magical gray color
alive with the crunch of snow
beneath your feet
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