Knowing

Footprints in snow tell a story of the walker not the whole story just a page within a chapter within a novel – not the whole story just parts – are parts enough to understand the whole – not always but sometimes – a hair lays on my jacket sleeve – not mine – I don’t know whose – does it matter – not really – no more than the footprints in the snow before me matter – the knowing still hungers for fulfillment.

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