sunset moon

the downtrodden snow
ready to shine

fog saved in a cobweb

so lifelike

touch-me-not quivering
in the rain

monarch butterfly

the meadow’s whisper
of crickets

by a porcupine
sweet birch

fox’s leftover
junco feathers

the shrinking circle
of my needs

the “cosmic” flavor of the cloud
from her vape

I go for a walk in rain
that should be snow

there’s so much less fornication than at the encampment of the saved.

all the trees graffitied
with fresh snow