No hint of snow this winter day
as I sneak through the December world.
All hints of autumn sent away
by breeze that makes the high limbs sway.

A step or two then stand and wait
trying to spot what might be seen.
A slight movement makes me hesitate...
just a squirrel seeking a mate.

The sun reclines slowly toward the west
and temperature begins to fall.
Is the sun seeking a long night's rest
now that the woods are all undressed?

Trumpets announce a flight of geese
heading for their evening roost.
On these clear skies they hold a lease.
I shiver beneath my coat of fleece.

Like southing geese my thoughts now fly
from winter woods to my warm home
which gets me thinking maybe I
should retrace my footsteps bye and bye.

So I turn around on corn flake leaves
shattering the evening's fragile silence
along with popping of old knees.
Up on the ridge I hear a wheeze.

Though my quarry, I pay it little heed
for today is Christmas eve.
Another deer's not what I need,
so back toward home I now proceed.