The braches on boughs broke.
Lying lifeless. Casualties of the white out.
Lost soldiers, abandoned by their unit.
Under the weight they could not withstand.
Only now revealed
Perfect circle encircling more circle.
There is a blackstone panther, she re-enlivens each night
A path of sprawling
The little girl awaiting her bus told me so.
She tugged my coat and pointed as I passed: I see her at night.
Does she have a name, I ask?
She just nods and waves.
I smile and turnaway.