converting my loneliness
to metric
Author: 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.
fisher tracks
the swaying shadows
of trees
high wind
losing parts of words
two-day snowstorm
rodent teeth find
something to gnaw
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
