I walk along the snowy path,
Only a ridge now, with moon-like craters left from past footfalls
Of the receding winter.
It is like the arched spine of the slumbering earth,
Heaving before it awakes, protruding from the ground.
Soon she will relax and be invisible again,
But buzzing with life underneath the grasses,
That provide sustenance and protection
For all those who live below.