Snow-Walking
Barbara A. Taylor
 

Night visitors leave their calling cards--signs of activity in brushed marks of tails, of hooves, paw prints of every size, the tiniest tracks of birds that make artistic masterpieces, invoke, inspire, create stories of intrigue, fear, alarm. Harmony is dispelled, spoor designs are broken, disturbed by truck-wheel tracks. There's been mad scurrying by wildlife—invaders desecrated this wilderness. Hunters leave behind scarlet-speckled snow. An elk's staring eyes now glazed, frosted, frozen pink glass. Sunlight shines, makes trickling tears of blood. Melting red-ice mars my visuals of snow-walking.

her faded tattoos
paint splattered white walls
a previous life—

Barbara A. Taylor lives in the Rainbow Region of northern New South Wales, Australia. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Lynx, CHO, Folly, Flashquake, Tinywords, Stylus, Wisteria, Triptychhaiku, NewVerseNews, Ribbons and in other literary journals such as Triplopia, Cezanne's Carrot, The Salt River Review and The Blue Fifth Review. Her poems with audio are at http://batsword.tripod.com

Copyright 2007: Simply Haiku