Lay me in a fist-sized hole

feathered with rime.

mountaintop pond

the blind dog lapping
at her reflection

to maximize their receptivity to the lightning of thought.

we were adrift long before we were at sea.

has convinced us this stillness is meditative?

we will all have to become subnivean.

Only love. Maybe.

sawed-off end of a log
now riddled
with openings

maple-leaf viburnum / turns out its true color / is viburnum

haiku: state forest / a maze of snail trails / on the road sign

at the trailhead / a maple limb grows down / into the earth

snake at my feet / wanting and not wanting / to stroke its scales