This is more a memory of past winters. What drifting we’ve had here, as in this photo, is just on the windward side of the ridges and easy enough to avoid trudging through (unless one is keen on a photo). The haiku occurred to me just now as I was going back through last week’s photos on my phone.
Published by Dave Bonta
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. My books of poetry include FAILED STATE: HAIBUN, ICE MOUNTAIN: AN ELEGY, BREAKDOWN: BANJO POEMS, and ODES TO TOOLS.
View all posts by Dave Bonta