where I first felt a sea anemone grasp my fingertips.
legs on either side, feet seeking not-slippery-faces
to take roost. water underneath everywhere.
a ridge top that I had to climb. up. then seeing
why. all flat on the other side, wheat like water
is, like wind, with a rock or two changing shapes.
wind pushing, hard, then by its absence, pulling.
that storm made me smile. a small roof, a glance
overhead. horses like waves with frothy manes.
two inches, white, and that first sound. snow in
a city all alone at night. except for my two legs.
a destination in mind, not yet arrived. you?