a gentle tide
entering my dream
the call of a loon
trail dust …
climbing Mount Hood
with my shadow
campfire embers …
my mother’s voice
drifting to sleep
winter rain —
on my resume
the weight of ink
sunbeams
in a trail of dust
a moth in flight
first confession —
a heavy stone falls
into the sea
revisiting
her tombstone
the scent of moss
among endless
trees and deep valleys
the mystery of me