snow
brings silence
everything
just a whisper
“why are you collecting rock?’ i asked
“because they’re in my fields,” he said
“i want the crops to grow.”
we were silent a time.
“i also like them heaped at the ends of the rows;
little monuments to labor.”
moon behind clouds
shows her face
bare trees
they reach upwards
i rise to let the cat outside
it had been calling out
and in my sleep
i heard it
the sky is pale
the air frigid
the cat and i pause
for a moment
we each witness
the stillness
porch boards with frost
small animal prints
here and there
trees moan in wind
sun casts a rigid shadow
birds to the feeder
swooping down
in some pattern
i do not yet
understand
two butterflies
dance
fluttering
madness
joy
the dryer tumbles
rhythmically
the day turns over from
night
crows caw
tidal waters
rock
tidal waters
no rock