dogtrax

It's never too soon to mourn the passing of a fellow poet and strummer on the streets of an American city, gunned down by policies meant to divide us from each other, but what words suffice to capture the moment, other than anger and sadness?

— for Renee Good

Hands of an old clock rotating in time and rhyme, in a slow creak now

A lone wolf howl the first full moon of the year gracing morning skies

joy is a tall tree with roots deeper than a mountain

love is, too, if you let it flourish on wonder, and settle in soil

inspired by Steve's metaphor poem

Fields home to flowers now lay dormant in winter, asleep in the cold

Thin strands of gossamer catch the dewy morning light -

if a body's angled just right, you just might wander through a world awash in spidery strands of glitter

Like sugar dusting the world this morning, it's sweet - these winter white streets

for Algot

There's no time to sleep when winter bears its cold breath and cubs awaken

Would the moon make a song if it knew I were the only one listening?

I think of the sound it might sing to me, as my dog puts her nose touching the ground on the first morning walk,

my boots and her paws beating rhythm on ice and snow, waiting on a melody

for #ds106

An ode to Janus begins with an open door, closing behind us