Icy fog.

Frozen snow on ground.

Moonlight filtering, scattering through the thick fog.

Fox tracks in the snow.

An owl calling in the distance.

An intermittent whispering breeze.

Are those spirits – dancing, beckoning – I see yonder?

Or, just the ice draped branches of the willow swaying in the distance?

copyright 2016 – larrysmusings.com