Tundra

Short Arctic desert day
and someone left their snowshoes in the tundra.
Look around every which way
but I can't see just where the footprints go.
Is it a casual disappearance?
Plucked from the middle atmosphere
like straw windblown.
No speck on the horizon
no simple message scrawled
upon the snow.

Unearthly visitation
someone left their snowshoes in the tundra.
Hungry buzzard flier
circling round and round
rattling death's tambourine.

Have to run it down the cold wire
late insertion in tomorrow's lost and found.
Should I spread out searching?
But I'm a little thin upon the ground.

So I raise my lips to coax
the last drop of brandy from the bottle.
Rest my feet and contemplate
the mystery that's haunting
this Siberian space.

Showshoes they bind me down
I'm just one more parasite of the surface layer.
I begin to get the feeling
I've been on this stage before
and I'm the only player.

One more Arctic desert day
another set of shoes out in the tundra snow.
I make my fade to whiteout
and you can't see me where my footprints go.