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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