12/17/17
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?
