Snow Capped

Snow capped button mushrooms circle the old oak Boot prints have shuffled the shade around so that what once was darkened is now lighter, the small heaps of melting ice look like the Alps when the sun sharply defines their shadowed rock face. My skis are in the attic along with the wicker basket we used to gather mushrooms in. This small woodland find links me to her the scene has painted a memory. A trick of the light, here in a time and place half-hidden in the not yet forgotten.