Before the snow is gone ( to a friend)

          
     
The road stretched out      
the day was hot.      
Here beneath the trees      
cool breezes drying sweat,      
clothes limp about tired thighs      
knew the way, walked in sleep      
each way and back and forth.      
In grass verges poppies remind      
of days so long a go and far,      
some as yesterday.Ah yesterday!      
Secure in its past, safe, eternal.      
     
Clouds dark and stormy,      
foreboding cross the path      
Where to turn,when, or if.      
Snow on shoulders, cold,        
the way now not as hoped.      
A cross-road, four ways,  
only one with foot-prints.      
Why is this? What do they know?      
The prints clear,confident      
hope in each spelt clear      
Is this the way to take? . . . .      
who goes before?      
Take a stick out of the hedge      
step into those foot-steps . . .      
Do they fit? Not too deep?      
Follow before they fade.