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January 11, 2011

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it was perfect snow for footprints
not too deep and sort of melted
where you stepped, empty streets
no one out, virgin expanses ahead
and behind just our criss-crossing
path like the floor markings
of an old-time dance lesson

woven strands are stronger
than straight lines. sarah and i
don't march lockstep side by side but
we do meander in the same direction,
leaving a lovely twisted trail behind