Words From Winter
With cold air comes
Hike to Rock Garden - 11.13.17
Until the spring returns
The moss will hold her color,
A pillow releasing sweet dreams
Of green past
And green future.
Hike to Beaver Skull - 11.16.17
The night is dark but vibrant.
This wind howls louder
and your breathing vibrates
the chill in the air.
The glow of the moon glows brighter
and I see our love take shape
within these walls,
within these bodies,
When all my loves are sleeping - 12.10.17
There is blue upstream.
There is green downstream.
And here, right here, there is gold.
Here, right here, in the sun’s arms
The light kisses every rock, every ripple, every bed of river sand.
All glowing golden.
Sitting on a sun rock at the river - 12.13.17
In winter the water takes new form.
The sandy beaches extend as ice out over the current, inviting furry paws to step out further, to walk on water.
Shapes looping, swirling, undulating freeze your gaze.
The moving water breathes below, in and out, like a creature with no bounds.
The river is so clear it exists and it doesn’t all at the same time.
By a frozen Chattooga - 1.5.17