I.

A terrible wind
kept me from descending
the other side of the upper knoll-
I should have known
my walk was not meant to be
when a gust slammed the car door,
cutting my leg
as I tried to get out,
but yet I tried to make the trail…

II.

Clouds moved swiftly
with a rolling March thunder
and I could see rain
over the hills nearby.

I paused near woods’ edge,
watching bare trees bend
and lake waves crash on the dock.
My time slipped away faster
with words unused.

III.

A buffeting cold
increased with each step.
The clouds seemed to pick up speed.
My boots sank in wet leaves.
I felt a little disoriented,
sky and earth spinning.
Like I had lived this moment before
and was about to choose
a different end.

IV.

There was something lurking
just past the footbridge –
I could not see it, but a presence
pulled at me to turn back.

I made a choice
to turn away,
ignoring curiosity
because I am used to being filled
with wonder.

Blue drifts
growing outside the window,
castles pure and ancient
holding memory like a song

Sparkling seasons simmer inside me,
stories unfurl with my breath,
fogging the glass

I stand on the other side of cold
and for a moment,
my eyes see my eyes seeing-
my reflection in frost

I am time,
held in spilling light
over snow

… and I return
to some place
that’s somewhere else,
like the yellow dust from 1974
which I have some idea
I remember-
shortly before
my parents took me to see ‘Jaws’
and I was five years old

I have the same feeling
of inappropriate excitement
and I wonder if they recognized
what I know now,
how things get ruined
when one talks too much
or doesn’t think
or tries too hard

… and I return
to some place
that’s always grey
that will always be-
even if buried
beneath teapots and exuberance
and I wonder
if I’ll find anyone else
as I shuffle in dust

With the grace of a train whistle,
he blew through
my station.

There was no schedule.
I never left the platform.

My dreams of flight
drifted on smoke
far, far away.