Morning Sparkles, February Sunsight at 6:56 [ click photo for next . . . ] (III.3.2009) . . .
On the road in the American Northwest
Morning Sparkles, February Sunsight at 6:56 [ click photo for next . . . ] (III.3.2009) . . .
On the road in the American Northwest
Follow @cliffcrego
WINTER PATHS—"deep snow"
seventeen 17-step poems
(i) The blank page
of freshly fallen snow.
Where shall our first new path
begin?
(ii) How deep snow heals.
The old wreck
of a car is gone.
Almost gone, the cross.
(iii) In one single night,
the rudeness of machines
and straight lines—
is erased.
(iv) Children and snow
go together: Try. Make.
Break. Play. Angel. Snowman.
Wings.
(v) Cars hate snow: Stuck. Skid.
Flip. Swerve. Won't start. Crash.
Oh my god, I'll
be late.
(vi) Snow means slow,
quiet, peaceful.
Cars mean fast, heavy—
get out of the way.
(vii) When two movements
bite or fight each other,
this is called—
contradiction.
(viii) The fieldmouse tracks
go, "hop, hop."
Straight line of tail
never leaves the snow.
(ix) The snowmachine's tracks
cut ruts in the snow;
its sound, smell,
carry miles.
(x) The silence of snow
is deep. If we listen,
we, too,
become silent.
(xi) Overcast again,
new snow tomorrow.
Good day for lichens
and moss.
(xii) If snow comes and
goes in winter, then,
you're not in the
right place for snow.
(xiii) The white death
of snow comes fast.
He went to the barn
and never came back.
(xiv) The way of snow shows:
Never trust the
man who is
absolutely sure.
(xv) Today's traverse
may be tomorrow's trap.
How hard, this art
of waiting.
(xvi) After storm, new snow.
All the old paths are gone.
Time to begin,
once more.
(xvii) See the primrose
nested on south-facing rock—
the patience
of deep snow.
III.2.2009,
Snow Wiki Camp,
Eagle Cap Wilderness,
