Retreat

The path,
Inviting.
Conifers interrupted
As the clearing
Cheers
And the wooden bench beckons
For a moment's retreat.

But the snow's secret
Is revealed
When suddenly,
Six inches deep
In fetid water,
I'm forced to retreat.

A short walk that ended in cold, wet feet, smelly walking boots and soggy jeans. I'd planned other blips entirely but they didn't work out.

Will catch up with comments tomorrow. Good night all.