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About This Poem
Feet painting
Gazing at the pristine snow
Thinking what a painting I could do
Can paint a portrait with a smile
Or an athlete running a mile
Maybe a single petal as it flutters
Or a country window complete with shutters
But wait another artist is here
Hopping gently without fear
He makes a circle of fine feet
Looking inwards aren’t they sweet
He flies away his picture complete
Tiny footprints made by tiny feet
It was the robin making the snow his own
Looking for crumbs of cake I had thrown
For all the hungry birds too eat
It didn’t matter what size the feet.
What picture on the snow did he adorn?
Was a great picture of a crown or thorns
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