on rainy days the front porch transforms by the magic held in storms to a rocky shore and I, standing there with sea wind in my hair, like a giant in the tide without a boat to ride, set sail by foot in the mystic gale
It’s too cold today.Too cold to grindthe sleep from my eyesand rise.Outside,I see life suspendedin crystalized ice.Inside,I am swirled in a snowglobe,a tiny frozen breathcurling back to sleep.
My god lives here in the darkness, in the snow, in buckets of sap, the soul of the trees, flowing by the freeze and thaw of howling night and gentle day, like me, learning to flow with ice in my lungs and hot sugar crystals glazing my wind-ravaged cheeks. On split lips, I taste something elemental. Pine needles, cold. The sweat of the mountain. The proximity to the fire and boil that […]
The wrongness of winter rain on fresh snow– where do the snow fairies go in this world promised frozen?
Shifting shades of somber grays– an interlock of fractal lace– bend with snow to kiss my face Trees are most beautiful in winter