Water

so many evenings
spent in stony solitude
with yet without you
–
rain etched stones-
the once neat path
overgrown

in the morning sun
slight pockets of fog linger
on winter hillsides
–
morning mist-
migrating geese
hug the shore

damp and feverish-
a restful sleep eludes me
on this bed of coals
–
noonday sun-
ice in my glass
long turned to water

my old tired soul
steeped in warm flowing water
washing me away
–
frozen windows-
winter winds blow
through my soul

a pile of old clothes-
years of living on the street
etched deep in her face
–
dirty snow-
sleep arrives on
a cardboard box

wind in the rushes-
dawn breaks on a night-heron
stalking the salt marsh
–
onshore breezes-
deep in the fen
the cattails sing

far icy mountains
bathed in shades of white and blue
float on arctic seas
–
broken ice-
polar bears
search for respite

by a forest stream
above the frogs and crickets-
winter stars appear
–
late spring thaw-
fox kits cross
a fallen oak

heavy water jugs-
her small bare feet unwashed and
calloused from the road
–
the rivers edge-
awaiting her turn
in the water

a quicksilver moon-
coyotes in the woods call
the gathering dawn
–
winter moon-
afloat on the
midnight surf