When winter came early and summer shook
I took the route a deer had took
Dead ahead downward with my back a hunch
The only sense, my footprint crunch
The only path my map would show
The only path that flew through snow
I followed timelessly nature’s trail
Through hazing cold of a bitter veil
When all but denser green was found
My hands shone whiter than the ground
I turned around and let weather trade
Then started on the path I’d made
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