it’s not my revolution
winter trees
Tag: trees
hoarfrost
my breath freezing
to my beard
fool moon
that photo-negative sun
when I close my eyes
just at the point
of running away
white-tailed deer
trail maps
the easy chair’s
mountain
snow
whiter
oak
on a path
swallowed by forest
horned moon
purple
stripes on trees
nothing’s private
clinging
to what leaves
American beech
mountain
without peaks
keep going
distant gunshots
the new tattoo
has turned scaly
growing needles
in an icy fog—
perjury charges
