In the white world
lives are depressions in a surface crust
scents pressed into the river’s pelt.
They pull towards the black
scrawl of shoreline trees
where shapes, movements
become undergrowth
fold into needled darkness.
In the white world
lives are depressions in a surface crust
scents pressed into the river’s pelt.
They pull towards the black
scrawl of shoreline trees
where shapes, movements
become undergrowth
fold into needled darkness.