Poetry

On the Path, Between the Trees On the path.Between the trees.New snow covers,Signs of thee. Pine limbs sag,Fall bursts of white.I searched for you,Just last night. Through the death,And amongst decay.This one’s alive,Heard myself say. Under your arms,And close to me.I dragged you,Watched you bleed. I cleaned you,And dried you out.Now there’s nothing,To worry about.…

On a cool morning in August 2024, I sat on the edge of Phantom Lake, writing in my mini spiral notepad about glacial landscapes, reflecting on them as the origin of life. Glaciers cling to the sides of peaks, melting into small black and gray streams that flow into alpine lakes, creating a landscape that…