Tag: Winter

Social Distancing

The warmth of the car Its heater The soothing voice of its radio The insulation it promises   The thoughts we have When losing the trail In the middle of a snowstorm   (Image entitled Bones. Click on image to enlarge. More images can… Continue Reading “Social Distancing”

Mild Streak

Rain stopped Forced spring out for a day.   Winter is an ideal With a harsh streak of delirium.      

Footprints

These cold hills stand unconcerned of what walks beneath them. Snow, that made it through the day’s rain, will be covered by night’s newest layer of white. But here today, the rain collects upon the trail. Footprints lie scattered. There are recent ones, still… Continue Reading “Footprints”

Wet Pine Needles

Running the brittle floor—upon leaves settled to soil. With mild hands wandering—through air and pressed sunlight. Becoming branches—breaching the film of moist sky. Clinging to winter’s sun—lucent thoughts, fictile. Moving with the wildness—of the warm, fragile body. Its abstractions of molds—ravines, dips, and death.… Continue Reading “Wet Pine Needles”

The High Lakes

The high lakes, frozen, clear, Distort reflections of the mountain.   Old men with trekking poles Filter through the forest.   All with some form of Achilles And Homeric hunger pangs.   Drawn to recite soliloquies To the unmoving cold.   Return to the… Continue Reading “The High Lakes”

Under Clear Skies

The ground is the hardest clay Groups of limbs follow its path Huddle in the sun Knees hidden, ankles astray Plot on how to tiptoe along cushions of leaves.  

Almost Spring On The Clackamas

The forest is last to relinquish winter. Snow still sticking between its toes, it has thousands of shadows and shades, ways to hide from sunlight. On these days of last melt, snow packs down hard on the unexposed trail, creating a thin slice of… Continue Reading “Almost Spring On The Clackamas”

The Ledge

Out on the ledge, the snow hushes the wild. This kind of quiet soothes while it scares Strange mixture of awareness. A lone northern harrier is the only singer. She strafes the powder with one beat of her wings Eyes on everything, including me.… Continue Reading “The Ledge”

Dab Of Warmth

There are mild spots between winter’s beating of grayness Where breaths, in ease, are breathed…gloves are placed in pockets or lost on streets of snow Mixed in that scattered brown batter of orphaned leaves. The sun appears as a stranger, speaking a forgotten tongue, yet familiar tone Trying to… Continue Reading “Dab Of Warmth”

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