Trackmarks in Haukijärvi

On cold February nights in Finland
I slept with the curtains wide open
for the first few weeks.
By the light of a moon or
just the sheer bright
whiteness of the snow
which covered the ground
and hung in the trees,
I was able to look out
at the black branches
moving in the breeze
as the edge of storm swept in
from Siberia and Europe froze.
But February moved on
and the days began to dawn sunny
and walks down slip-ice roads
increasingly revealed
activity in the night,
movement occurring across the fields,
the trackmarks on unknown animals
making unknown progress to
unknown places.
It was in those later weeks that
I closed my curtains at night,
other unknown footsteps
possibly being seen
beneath my window sill.

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