The Greatest Things

It was warmer then, and had been for some time
So, fog had come to rest over the ice.
There was snow on the lake and I pushed through it.

The trees, black and grey Norwegian pines, faded.
only my footsteps followed away from the shore
Soon I was alone.

I continued on like this, and did for some time.
Until I came across another’s steps,
But I moved over and onward.

Then night came to rest with the fog,

In this waning light, others awoke. 
The faint eyes of a fishing village.

I walked towards them for some time,
arriving as the last of the warmth
left the body of lake country.

There, docks rested on the shoreline
Hauled onto land, stripped and stored for winter.
Their skeleton architecture resembled whalebones.

I walked, kicking up snow and sand,
Towards the firebrick buildings. Into the barlight.
Inside there was laughter. I ordered and was asked where I came from.

It was warmer there. I stayed for some time.