Poetic Asides Espinela

Winter Walk

I walk on the snowy sidewalk.

A smattering of footprints lie.

A man, woman and dog, they cry.

They're talking tell-tale wintry talk.

I trudge on for many a block.

Soft snow falls with a southern slant.

Soft snow’s falling, falling, I chant.

Some snow-laden pine branches bow.

No sounds of slushy tires now.

Rusty leaves try to cling, but can’t.