The buoyant song of a meadowlark makes you believe that anything’s possible and if your faith has no bounds, it will be.
Sunrise or moonset
Behind or ahead
We wait on a ridge
As sun wins by a smidge
It might, she said, can we go?
Anywhere with you, my love.
A winter palette
Painted hues of seasons past
Bitter winds unleashed
White-washed mountains, whirling snow
Seeing more for seeing less
I would never allow that, she says.
(She never thought she would either)
but normalcy is creeping.
Walk a mile in her shoes,
smile masking defeat.
Look past the shell,
past the barbs,
Capturing movement through space
Chill of pre-dawn air yields to
Entangled between wind and water
Broadside delivered, ballast shifts
Precarious stem to stern
Into the murky depths
Time, unbroken, blurs the illusion
Quells the ocean, unveils its depths