even on land it still steers with its tail
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.
where it lost a limb
a glimpse of twisted heartwood mosquito in my ear
old bolete
gnats follow the branching cracks in its skin
first rain in weeks
the dry canyons in my moss garden disappear
night-blooming cereus
two spiders feed on a white moth
twinleaf
two missing petals but still an immaculate shadow
hepatica in bloom
I jangle the loose change in my pocket
first coltsfoot flowers
take aim at the overcast sky
icicles lengthen
the snow shares a shadow with the wall
bent stalk of brome
three corkscrew leaves stuck in the snow
weighted by ice
the laurel leaves turn pale-side up
snow-covered gabions
suddenly I want to descend those giant steps
