ice falling from the trees over here
Category: sky
ground and sky white
whichever way the nuthatch turns
January dawn
a ladder rattling
atop a van
winter sunrise
on an empty stomach
trying not to stare
Ridgetop wind
You can see farther this time of year because there’s so much less to see.
ridgetop wind
speaking in the voice
of a raven
Thanksgiving sky
the trees’ white skeletons
when I close my eyes
blue mountains
the dragon in my rock
will never hatch
shapes in the clouds
a lone kayaker raising her phone
boulder field
letting the wind help
fold my map
bare sandstone
in my earliest memories
you were granite
frost on the windshield
blank spaces on the map
autumn pond
a bottomless blue
six inches deep