I live now in a gray world,
veiled in fog and damp.
Hoarfrost might be beautiful –
Better, sun on the mountain.
Day of Portents I heard them flying, the cranes singing in their flight and so I looked up -- against a glowing sundog, they circled, then flew…
Bare branches that stand against a cold winter’s sky reveal more than hide as they reach many fingered arms up to a gray heaven. Stripped of…
(not IK) Wind from the mountain blowing coldly through my hair as I stand and watch the snow on the mountain peak fall leaves dancing in the air.…