Short walk.
Softly snow falls,
quiet, seeing.
A flake floats, hovering moment.
Changes the way
back, continues to descend.
Surfer skimming crystal.
Tender power, creation,
cutback along the crest.
Then on down.
Down down down
below the swell.
Crunches underboot.
Breathless moment
interrupted.
Rigs on the highway.
Distance of thousands,
far. But not so.
Sounds another dimension.
Gliding across waves,
a million miles across.
© 2019 Martin C. Fredricks IV
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Author: Martin C. Fredricks IV
Martin C. “Red” Fredricks IV here. I’m husband to an amazing woman who is also my best friend, dad to three outstanding kids, proud Fargoan (North Dakota, that is), veteran messaging strategist/copywriter, blogger and big-time reader. (If you're gonna write good stuff, you have to read good stuff.) A ginger, too (ergo the "Red"). At age 50 I'm a newbie to tattoos - I have three now - but the kind artists at the parlor tell me it's never too late. I like hanging out with my best friend, who also happens to be my wife, watching the kids in their academic and athletic activities, writing, hiking and riding my mountain bike.
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