dead sharp-shinned hawk

only its inner eyelids have fallen shut

the long shadows

move silently where horses once paced

skinny shadows lead to thorny trunks

the setting sun fingers two witch-hazels

any arrangement of sticks seems significant

only the H is still visible on the No Hunting sign

root hairs on a toppled tree are the only gossamer

weed stalks stipple the mountain laurel’s shadow

a doe follows the bootprints as far as she can

the mountain’s true skin slick & glistening

the locust sapling looks electric beside the bowed spruce