sleep deprivation

a small bird’s shadow
crossing the snow

snowpack

the afterlife
of ghost plants

fool moon

that photo-negative sun
when I close my eyes

wind-sculpted snow

my caravan
of one

no jets

for hours the sky
unlined

daybreak

in January
only crows crow

Smell Pox

I lost my sense of smell for just two days. When it came back, the first odor I noticed was soil.

just at the point

of running away
white-tailed deer

trail maps

the easy chair’s
mountain

snow

whiter
oak

hanging on

to a single wing
old spiderweb

on a path

swallowed by forest
horned moon