I looked up at the sun
           and the ice in the trees
           and, in the lens,
           I saw footsteps,
           in the snow, on my hill.
           and I couldn’t help wonder,
           whose they were,
           and where they went.
           did a friend come by?
           a stranger?
           where could they have gone
           without my knowing,
           or could it have been me,
           in a reverie.
           was a dog,
           walking alongside?