Winter Walk
Someone had been this way before.
I had wanted to be the first to mark
the pristine path, to hear that soft scrunch
as I crunched along, to turn and catch
my footsteps following behind.
No one is here now.
Long snakes of melded snowflakes
cling to the tree trunks.
See how the whole world sparkles and glistens!
Listen. Only the soft sound of birdsong,
the steady drip and slow slip-slide of snow,
the thud as a heavy lump slumps
to the ground. Then silence.
I had wanted to be the first to mark
the pristine path, to hear that soft scrunch
as I crunched along, to turn and catch
my footsteps following behind.
No one is here now.
Long snakes of melded snowflakes
cling to the tree trunks.
See how the whole world sparkles and glistens!
Listen. Only the soft sound of birdsong,
the steady drip and slow slip-slide of snow,
the thud as a heavy lump slumps
to the ground. Then silence.
This poem is copyright (©) Jacqueline Shirtliff 2025

About the Writer
Jacqueline Shirtliff
Jacqueline is a poet and primary school teacher on the Isle of Man. One of her favourite things is helping children to love poetry and reading and encouraging them to be writers themselves. She lives in a rose-covered cottage near the sea and enjoys gardening, crochet, and playing the tuba and harp, but not all at the same time! You can read some of her other poems in The Caterpillar, Tyger Tyger, Northern Gravy, The Toy, and Little Thoughts Press.