I would have gone to the west, the mountains, great rocky life, and learned to ride, or Llama
Fever pummels as carabiners clack, and humming cables sway magnificent in buried branches low and far below. Danger is not…
Sodden earth, pungent with filaments of green, musky fragrance wavers
stars crackle, dying light, bright flash, terminus of life on rayless water, luminous
I am still a planchet, a flan waiting to be struck, annealed with heat, then cold, so much cold….
Smell of herbs, soft petals reaching for the sun, lilies almost open to the day, cold water droplets cling