I chose to walk along the icy paths of winter,
a place my dog will show a keen nose,
looking for his imaginary friends,
while I the walker, contemplate ideals.
I wonder sometimes about pointless
disregard when the idea of choice makes
its way into our frame of mind,
in a manner of responsible livelihood.
The snow and ice crunched once underneath
my rather pointless Sorel slick soles
and I tried to imagine in the moment,
what was on my mind so illicit.
I always reflect upon the story of a friend,
many years ago, the halls of the hospital,
he would see his boss coming the other way,
in a moment imagined silent – she did slip and fall.
Often that tale comes to mind, when in a second,
I’m on the ground, snow down my collar,
perhaps a bruise … generally ego,
and I pick myself up my dog lapping my cheek.
Is it perhaps possible to move the branch of
the trees down the path when in winter
we only realize the stark dismissal of a blossom
in spring when a shield of ice does reign.
We might know a dream, a sunlight, a starry night
all of our features of beauty with every step in life.
© Scott F Savage 2/2020