NAME FOR MYSELF
Go for a walk in the snow.
Find the bike trail. Crunch
my prints into the smooth glare.
Duck, after a mile or so,
behind a fir. Unzip three layers.
Sign, with the willie pen, my name.
Hear the hiss. Watch the steam. Smell
the coffee. Radio claimed,
thanks to coming rain,
all by tomorrow melted.
Zip back up.
Back on the trail.
Trudge another mile or so
through the driven snow.
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