Tracks

Clouds roll in; each one is its own mountain

I look to the clouds for you, ten years gone
but eerily with me.

Your small grandson wears your skis
& I wish you could see

snow clouds roll in obscuring light.

Snow fields tracks. Can you see them?

How does it look this desert of life?

Cold, blue like you, the last time I looked
bruises around your eyes in your deep snow sleep

where you hid from me.

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