December 2018 – Page 3

leaving my baggage
there’s far too much to carry
along this journey
–
the river left behind-
ewer water
darkens the road

my eyelids heavy
weighed down by lies from the past
that I can’t escape
–
dark skies-
mountain rains
flood the valley

freshly cropped farmland
the western sky glows amber
over the harvest
–
the setting sun-
threshed chaff
in the wind

your slow gentle breath
in the forest silver wolves
hold court with the moon
–
icy water-
the sound of blood
rushing in my ears

a dusting of snow
years of footfalls revealed in
the worn granite steps
–
an old slate roof-
heavy snow piles
up on the eaves

an ancient copper bell
burnished by the history
of thousands of hands
–
a forest shrine-
autumn mist clings
to the hillside

lonely red roses
walked off from the outside by
a thicket of thorns
–
the sun
our children at play
in the back yard

folding the laundry-
I struggle with the mundane
while fame eludes me
–
feeding the birds-
a passing peacock
opens his tail

running through the woods
peep frogs fall silent as I
pass by unannounced
–
frozen breath-
the sun rises
to greet me

goose down sleeping bags
the morning mist rises as
we share the sunrise
–
breaking sunlight-
our bedroom window
kissed by frost