hunger

the snow
does not pile up
It was never meant to last
but I lose track of where it
falls across the fields
the ones untouched by wanderers
unmarked except for
a tree that breaks up the
rolling surface
there, the snow is deep
It was meant to be there

tea

a gray morning
a cup of hot tea
I set my thoughts aside
and watch for sunlight
I taste the sweet tea
lingering on my lips
I wish I could hold time
just slow it down enough
so daylight moves slowly
never quite arriving
and my tea
never gets cold

a tree

When I am in the woods, I stay quiet

I want to be like a tree

A tree only moves when something moves it

It does not try to imitate anything else

It is always true to itself

wildly

no one says to the cool rain,
“show me how to rejoice.”

children’s laughter
and bird song

wildly, wildly