Thursday, February 28, 2013

1.










a line of deer
among sprawling briars
pause

the slow hand of winter drawn
along storm-gray coats (
the difference between peril
and providence being…)
their breath rising
silently
against the wet escarpment

as the wrong red bird
blown in on a
warm front passed
sings his (
unimaginable
)
song

all the while

small dark rivers
cut stone