skimming grassy knolls laced
with winter frost. a press of hoof
into soil, trending careful, flaxen-colored fur
blends to disappear. a still place, a murmur
of a brook moving under a thin sheet of ice.
golden eyes shine in the morning light.
Writer in San Francisco, CA

I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness
skimming grassy knolls laced
with winter frost. a press of hoof
into soil, trending careful, flaxen-colored fur
blends to disappear. a still place, a murmur
of a brook moving under a thin sheet of ice.
golden eyes shine in the morning light.