“A Dance”

“The stepping-stones,

once in a row along the slope,

have drifted out of line,

pushed by frosts and rains.

Walking is no longer thoughtless

over them, but alert as dancing,

as tense and poised, to step

short, and long, and then

longer, right, and then left.

At the winter’s end, I dance

the history of its weather.”

– Wendell Berry

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