Sidewalk

Written March 2006
Revised and posted Nov 2025

Walking down these winter paths,

Feet crunching over the packed white. 

Where one was, another steps,

As the past is pressed beneath the new.

But the less snow, the fewer footprints, 

The smoother the path, the harder the fall.

Without footprints, I crash down. 

I don't know whose prints I step on,

Or who will step in my tracks.