Chapter 61: more coffee, please

First to rise, just after dawn, I wander through rooms in a part of town most people wouldn't volunteer to live in. Bitter cold again - the coming new year is a big question mark - not entirely lamentable, it just is.

Spire's of dust float across the length of the room, suspended in morning light streaming through frost on the windows - they rise, lifted on unseen currents, and then, simply disappear.




rinsing out
yesterday's cup --
solstice




` ;;;;;;

November :: yotsumono

November --
countless raindrops to measure
the length of a day

a veil of frost
tints Johari's window

ranks of children
prone and obedient
to a flickering image

Lebensraum
a none too distant dream



` ` ;;;;;

winter wind (revisited)

.
























just some old frostbite --
long tendrils of ice
delaying a thaw



days now short lived --
where have you gone
little sparrows?



chicken bones--
layers of snow
three feet deep

distant train horns

shear ice from each rail --

this old town

 

shrill horns
sheer the icy rails--
this old town




.

Agency Village

one by one
deer cross the highway, 
moon in every eye















medicine wheels--
through damp spring fog,
cairns of rough field stone

 frost on the window--
the day watcher's lookout
somewhere in the trees

Agency Village--
the eagle returns in daylight
  to inspect an old kill

hazy morning--
hungry sparrows in and out
an open door

lean times--
crows worrying
road kill

BIA 701--
country-western and native songs
through static on the radio

;;;;;;;

DQ

frost tonight -
the man at the dairy queen
lets out a yawn

Monday

 

 

 

 

morning glories -
a cup of yogurt like a pill

 

 

patches of fog -
can't sip my coffee on the S-curve





these tall buildings rise in the dark -
the geese depart all in a row





red leaves, yellow leaves, brittle all through -
warnings for frost in the Arrowhead