by Cheryl Merrick
Unseen animals leave
me snow stories.
A family of quail
quilt the yard
with arrows pointing
where they’ve been.
Rounded dots which circle
the trash cans, bird feeder,
and end abruptly at trees
tell of cat investigations.
The long skiing strides
that criss-cross the backyard
and converge under the pecan tree
report deers midnight visit.
Once unaware of their presence,
I now read their stories
written in the snow.
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