fast becoming
the last refuge
of the literary word
raw emotion:
over mass extinction
the milky way
free of fog
tree image becomes
a tree
sound of rain —
left and right of me
the not me
deathly still —
against a cloudless sky
a leafless tree
today the sky
being clear 
lost in light
a trout swirl mid-stream
ends the tale
hill folds
as if defined
by fog
wading girl
a comet keeps pace
for her