*

*

Woodsmoke from the neighbor’s chimney

prickles our noses.

The old apple tree is down,

split white on mud.

Here a scattering of gray fur,

the remnants of a fox’s meal.

*

Long meadow grasses beaten down

dampen our boots

on the slope to the river

brown and swirling.

See where the water rose highest,

rotting leaves strewn

across the overturned canoes.

*

Rock wall tumbled down,

hidden by wild rose and fescue

where the snakes winter.

Squish uphill to home,

past a branch erupting orange lichen.

A thick vine of wild grape

winds its sinuous way

into bare branches above.

*

Feel how the rough twist of vine

becomes our wrists.

The boundaries blur.

Part tree, part muscle and bone,

entangled in the wild,

we see only light.

*

Welcome, new followers! And thanks to all of you readers out there!