The last patch of cold weather brought new shapes to Big Knife Creek.
Lost in gleam. Is it then a loss or a light? The movement of past moment slipping between darkness and translucent waves—between sorrows and elation of the wider world. Here in this small place a celebration
— water meeting a sway of coldness—shaped by branch and rock and flow of wetness. Held—like breath—skin rests to feel a familiar heart beat not my own—remembered.
An invitation to an internal space—slide here, slip here, sip here…
Sun bright light embraced by ice—moving still life—coalescence until they are not one or the other.
