in the morning, a fresh blanket of snow makes the world look new. by day's end, it's well-trodden: a car driven off the lot.
Depreciation [Tanka]
2
I ventured beyond civilization, and (by man's definition) I was lost. I knew no near city, state, or nation. Who knows what backwoods borders I'd crossed? I'd drifted down streams: still and rapid tossed, and when boat filled faster than I could bale, I took to foot. Onward at any cost! I passed over mountains and through their vales, and trudged the badlands, unparted by trails. But he who's lost is often he who finds, and I learned history's forfeit details in form of ruins in a sheltered blind. Oh! What novel and beautiful sights are had by lost souls in eternal nights!

drifting downstream,
the prow points our way
to open sea.