The snow has turned us into trackers.

Hunched over,

Peering, pondering, poking.

What left these prints?

Running, jumping, hopping,

Across the earth’s white shell.

Some one-by-one,

Some side-by-side,

Others with tail in tow.

Big and small,

Deep and shallow,

All teeming with life.

So much for the dead of winter.