purple

stripes on trees
nothing’s private

as for me

the mossy side
of the trunk

gray

fox’s leftover
junco feathers

bubbles

frozen under the ice
or current resident

clinging

to what leaves
American beech

fresh snow

a vole’s
wandering hill

crow mimicking

a crow hunter’s
crow call

New Year’s Eve

more than ordinary
stir fry

mountain

without peaks
keep going

moon on ice

moon on ice
that emphatic
WHO-all

no visitors

to track up my snow
mourning dove wings

lost

idiolect are you
my mutter