footprints in the snow

footprints in the snow
wonder where they go
through the fields; through the trees
walking in the winter breeze

softly laid down one by one
exposed to the heat of the golden sun
still there when the day is done
as the animal walks along

its path is not planned
it walks over mud; gritty sand
smaller than the palm of your hand
the print is made with no demand
on some kind of mossy land

the footprints end
the animal has come to depend
on the small holes that can be made in the ground
where it sleeps until winter without making a sound.