etched against
the star-stamped sky
arthritic branches
scrawl the naked poetry
of old-growth forests
by the lamp
of a full Thunder Moon
I wrote this storm
with lightning bolts
dipped in wells of rain
gritty life
shape-shifting into desert
thirst unslaked
the sand in my shell mouth
never becoming pearls
ice dancing
between frozen waves
on winter's lake
silver blades carve initials
in the diamond dust of snow
snow geese
scribe an ancient mystery
across the moon
their soft murmurs
catching winter's breath
migration
the last loon on the lake and I
ululating
our echoes vanish in that
sad impermanence of air
feed me words
from your quicksilver tongue
let them drip
into my dusty throat
and down the chin of longing
through the canyon
wild whinnying resounds
shattered echoes
bouncing off the humpbacked
shoulders of the desert night
those silent
bones of words
that mean goodbye
the distance between us
further than the crow flies
my hair
combed by wayward winds
silver webs drift
into the dreaming forest
capturing the song of sun
