Julian Scutts Poet Elegiac Lyric

I Walked One Morn

I walked one morn a well-loved way
where snow's white shroud before me lay.
Therein were footprints half-erased
as names on weather-beaten graves,
sole tokens of the wanderer's tread
seeking where to lay his head,
through dimensions felt. not grasped,
that bore, and bear, and to the last,
shall bear the impress of each  heart.

One day I'll walk by copse and rill,
up to a mound, a cold green hill,
from there the setting sun to see.
I'll rest beneath a spreading tree,
and dream perchance of that past day
when snow's white shroud before me lay.

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