WHITE FIELDS

In the winter children go

Walking in the fields of snow

Where there is no grass at all,

And the top of every wall,

Every fence, and every tree

Is as white as white can be.

Pointing out the way they came,

( Every one of them the same )

All across the fields there be

Prints in silver filigree;

And their mothers find them so

By the footprints in the snow.