places

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?