He lives in the woods

In plain sight he hides from view

So feral his skills

The shelter is gone

Twigs and branches disassembled

Of the man, no trace

The pleasure and pain

of snow. Ice crystals delight

the eyes and nip toes.

How bright the blue sky

Breath forms clouds and footsteps crunch

So good to get out

Snow is bright and clean,

It covers over all things.

But know – it will melt.

Ice-laden branches

The weight of winter recedes

Beneath a bright sky

I choose words with care

a word, glance, even a sigh.

ferocious storm.

ghosts of industry

loiter on the river bank

you just have to look

pulling form from earth

a potter’s hands on the clay.

smell of a river

At night in her cot

Open-eyed dolls watch over

Frigid sleeplessness