Predawn

rails shrouded in fog-
a ghost train departs beneath
the approaching dawn

sunrise shadows-
nascent snow cradled in
dry autumn leaves

Sky

lost amid the clouds-
the afternoon sky whispers
my name to the wind

wistfully blue-
dandelions
in your hair

Eerie

ghost of old rumors-
morbid curiosity
about the house on the hill

a one eyed crow-
tortured shrieks of
wrought iron hinges

History

a thin scrim of frost-
muddy waters churn beneath
this fragile veneer

storm clouds-
reopening
old wounds

Freedom

‘neath a festive sky-
cold ashes rain down upon
old lakota land

beneath the stars-
none of us free
unto the last

Reckoning

vultures overhead-
circling waiting before
feasting on the dead

red skies-
a tempest
at our door

Alar

soaring red-tailed hawks-

below veiled skies verdant trees

emerge from the mist

between the clouds

and the cut grass-

a wounded crow

Diner

grime covered windows-
watching the rain absently
stirring black coffee

street lights-
shadows of rain
on my paper napkin

Shedding

covered in lichens-
a tall and stately oak tree
sheds its dead branches

thin mountain air-
all my baggage
suddenly empty

Afternoon

a chorus of birds-
greening trees cast shade across
our secret meadow

slating sunlight-
motes of dust
defy gravity