from “Women Who Sleep With Dogs”
“I am rings. Rings of happy and sad seasons. Thick rings, and thin. An old tree, waiting to be cut down, or struck by lightning. I am rings of history and fear.”
Ice
If photography was a seasonal sport, I would have to say, winter is, indeed, my favorite time of year.
Look closely at the world, my friends, it’s far more interesting than you might think at a glance.
Why Fish Don’t Look
poem from the collection, “One Coyote Winter”
No Peace A Silent Night
The riders came back snow-shouldered,
grim lips chapped from needles of winter,
knees rawed and saddle-bowed,
….from the collection “One Coyote Winter”
Winds of Montana
poem from the collection, “One Coyote Winter.”