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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Personal · #1920287
Yak-tracks cross the snow-crust, the frozen mud, the ice. Lavinia scouts the perimeter...
Revised version to be read 12th February 2014:

Yaktrax

         for Lavinia

Yaktrax cross the snow-crust, the frozen mud, the ice.

Lavinia scouts the perimeter, protects her people, chants in a circle as past, present, future ...become one in a spiral from the depth of night skies, reaching towards starlight.

Lavinia watches over her daughters and sons, the Children-of-the-Earth, through seasons of mud, growth and dust. Now, to the dance of wet flakes, she'll watch even closer, which way the wind blows the clouds that bring life-giving moisture or a blanket of dreams or cold death. Through the dearth of it all she'll stay vigilant.

Tonight the moon lights the pine, casts dark shadows on white, sleeps in the dimples of tracks in fresh snow.

© Kåre Enga [168.225] November 15, 2011.

Note: published older version:

Yaktrax cross the snow-crust, the frozen mud, the ice.

She scouts the perimeter, protects her people, chants in a circle as past, present, future ...become one in a spiral from the depth of night skies, reaching towards starlight.

She watches over her daughters and sons, the Children-of-the-Earth, through seasons of mud, growth and dust. Now, to the dance of wet flakes, she'll watch even closer, which way the wind blows the clouds that bring life-giving moisture or a blanket of death. Through the dearth of it all she'll stay vigilant.

Tonight the moon lights the pine, casts dark shadows on white, sleeps in the dimples of tracks in fresh snow.

© Kåre Enga [168.225] November 15, 2011.

Note to self, old version:

Yak-tracks cross the snow-crust, the frozen mud, the ice. She scouts the perimeters, protects her people, chants in a circle: past, present, future ...become one in a spiral from the depth of night skies, reaching towards starlight.

She watches over her daughters and sons, the Children-of-the-Earth, through seasons of mud, growth and dust. Now, to the dance of wet flakes, she'll watch even closer, which way the wind blows, the clouds that bring life-giving moisture or a blanket of death. Through the dearth of it all she'll stay vigilant.

Tonight the moon lights the pine, casts dark shadows on white, sleeps in the dimples of tracks in fresh snow.
© Copyright 2013 Kåre เลียม Enga (enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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