Tall gray bird, an egret I think
standing in the shore of a small pond,
poised, quiet, intent, focused,
his head and long beak
suddenly snapping into the water.
He's stabbing at one of the numerous
plump brown tadpoles beginning to kick
their frog legs, but he misses,
comes up dry, guess I'm not the only one.
I compare my footprint
to the other footprint in the snow
and can tell it is a woman's footprint,
a narrow soul and pointed toe,
a grace obvious even in the reflection
of her beautiful foot radiating right
through the boot into the snow.