nibbled green
behind her at snow’s depth,
the rabbit rides
her soft feet softly home
on the shallow
crust that hides
her nest under
the ground
while I raise
each webbed sole,
crosshatching the
undersnow
leaving
frozen chunks that mark the path
and
wishing memory were dumb
as
an egg before it met the womb
yet I know I will
find again
the old
unconscious tracks
over open spaces
and drifts that
hold no mark.
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