Tuesday, January 25, 2011


Three paths mingled upon the whitened way,
Freshly covered with bright new drifts of snow.
One turned in along path of darkened gray
There just about half-way to mine, I know.
I walked to where my pathway split aside
Next to the other footprints threading yon.
I trudged ahead always stepping beside
Those other prints, then noted they went on
Past my path, imprints beyond my vision
In the moon glow and puddles of streetlight.
I did not care, for my firm decision
Was to snuggle into warmth that cold night.
And yet, I hope a friendly smile was there
To welcome, to greet, the unknown traveler.

Copyright by Myrna Trauntvein. Please credit me as author.

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