Not Walking with My Camera: Traveling in the Archives



It is hard to not be able to walk in the new snow (broken ankle), so I traveled, into my photo archives seeking the movement of water.


sun gold threading through turbulence

spray―off stone

mountain snowpack released among the mortals

kneeling by the water―peering

the deep blue pulling me

until the surge sings against my ribs

my breath leaps―then moves down stream

Darkness―a current―for the ceaseless dance of bright lines

Are we all―moving water―a recognition felt in our flesh?