mountain stream talking to myself
Tag: stream
Growing up during the Cold War
we watched for the flash of a nuclear strike by day, and by night, the mysterious lights of UFOs.
Blue blood
belongs only to those with no need for veins, like a wanderlust that starts where the highway ends.
the dead oak
has sprouted fat icicles where it spans the spring
early spring creek
icicles get wavier as they near the water
slow-moving stream
only a slight shimmy in the ferns’ reflections
Woodrat photohaiku 