Not a star or a moon,
dark as the inside of a covered hole.
This black night had sounds
of wind moving among
houses and thick trees,
whistling loud and humming low.
Morning light was slow to enter
my world of winter uncertainty.
Suddenly the curtain of light
blasted through my bedroom window.
The woods were covered thick
with shadows of blue
bouncing off dark trees.
Between shadows appeared
a large white dog
that had the appearance
of a timber wolf snooping
for a meal of gray rabbit.
The snow dog stood proud and still.
It appeared, as created by snow.
Then quickly, it disappeared
melted below the heat of sunrays.
Only signs it had appeared
were foot prints of a wandering spirit.
© By Mary Nida Smith