bright graffiti

through the autumn hills
this freight

wilderness peak

checking my phone
for a signal

leaves falling

through low sun
a yellow-shafted flicker

woodbine

gone to seed
a traveler’s joy

shapes in the clouds

a lone kayaker raising her phone

boulder field

letting the wind help
fold my map

bare sandstone

in my earliest memories
you were granite

frost on the windshield

blank spaces on the map

returning

to my upstairs bedroom
my own body heat

autumn pond

a bottomless blue
six inches deep