smoke in Chama Canyon
surrounds me like the ghosts
of all the dead I’ve ever known
somewhere close a lone cow bellows
echoes sound far upriver
in the dusk her calf replies
too late too late
from the other side
Morning – Chama River
For you are mist that appears for a little while
and then vanishes. – James 4:14
of breaking clouds
the little ones hiding
in side canyons
above the river
a raven laughs
and drops a feather
Evening – Chama River
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
– Czelslaw Milosz
Pulling back the blankets tonight
I found a small cricket
quiet and shy
hiding under my pillow.
Oh, I know better.
Like me, though, it seemed alone
and in need of a companion
to get through the dark alive.
So, I’ll awaken before dawn
and give thanks if we’re still here
like the moths that flew to the light just now
when I opened the door to check for rain.