The first bear came down from
the mountain today. Porcupines
graze by the trail.
The air tastes of the forest
trying to bloom. Icicles melt, quick
percussive drip off the eaves.
On the high New Mexico desert,
your ashes and bits of bone
rest pale in the red dirt.
I bring home hothouse daisies,
tulips, daffodils in green
buckets. Rain falls, falls.
found your website via a comment on caterina.net, and i’m loving it so far. 🙂
Thanks, Pat. Hope you come back & keep enjoying it!
Oh, lovely.
A few tinkers to do, yet, maybe, ie:
The air tastes of the forest
trying to bloom. Icicles melt, quick
percussive drip off the eaves.
Could be
The air tastes of effort
to green. Icicles melt, quick
beat off the eaves.
And the verb “rest” could be something more visual — nest? heap?
I wish you’d send some of this stuff to Zeugma, but that’s a selfish wish.
. . . hmmmm . . .
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