pale horses moving through trees, dappled with darkness, the ghosts of a blizzard, their hoofbeats an echo of glaciers scraping at the roots of the earth. unseen traces drag winter behind them like a great roaring, billowing wagon: ice-laden, frost-swollen, lead-grey as november clouds.

a pack

we break into the forest, some dogs and i. we are a pack, one organism with loll-eared, slaver-jawed parts. our paws smash crunching leaves, our feet crush brittle twigs. we charge into the fray, our hunting grins feral our eyes focused miles away, ready to bay, to howl, to laugh. we are a pack.

placeholder haiku

there is a lot going on here in the wintry hills, but most of it i can't talk about for Legal Reasons, which sounds very ominous, but isn't at all. at least this time they are someone else's Legal Reasons. take it from the voice of experience, this is a blessing we do not give thanks … Continue reading placeholder haiku

snipe hunt

i've got several posts in the works, but spring has definitely sprung in vermont and there is no longer enough time in the day to do all the things i need to do, all the things i want to do, plus sleep and pee. until i get a rainy day with no Mom:Chauffeur duties, have … Continue reading snipe hunt

the spindle

long skeins run north to southin heather strands of greywith flecks of white and black spun inknitting winter from the windsblending soft angora flakes of snowwith rugged red and chestnut woolto craft a fabric that wraps the worldin somnolent silencethe seed of summer lies quieta small death that will spin backward come april when thelong … Continue reading the spindle