
Footsteps in the Snow
No wind, no sound, just ice and white
A single trail beneath the night
No turning back, no scattered tread
Just careful steps like they were led
I followed slow, the path was straight
Each mark still fresh, deliberate weight
No birds, no tracks of fox or hare
Just snow, and me, and something there
The trees were bare, their branches black
The path moved deep, it didn’t slack
No cottage light, no chimney glow
Just sinking prints in silent snow
One set of steps, no drag, no leap
As if the snow had learned to creep
Each print the same, the distance tight
Too neat, too clean, too carved in spite
My breath came short, the cold was sharp
The frost clung fast to every part
I called once out, my voice went thin
The hush that came was crawling skin
The trail turned once, then dipped below
Into a dip the trees don’t show
I stood and stared, then made my way
With nothing else to light the day
I reached the end, the steps were gone
No shape, no sign of moving on
No trace of life, no final breath,
Just stillness heavier than death,
The snow held secrets none could break—
A silent path I will not further take.

About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️




Comments (1)
I always liked following trails like this one for it is a mystery solve in a way. The ones I followed were mainly my brothers and sisters on the way to catch the school bus for my bus came about an hour later. Thanks for the memory and good job.