Tracks

Clouds roll in; each one is its own mountainI look to the clouds for you, ten years gonebut eerily with me.Your small grandson wears your skis& I wish you could seesnow 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 lookedbruises around your eyes in your deep snow sleepwhere you hid from me.