Before the Cold Returns

I drink the sun.
I drink it through my skin,
lifting up my head
as if taking
a long swallow.

Written in response to Drinking by Jean Morris at Trail Mix

How absentmindedly ...

how absentmindedly
I rip the twig
from the soft bark of the tree

Noises Off

the little early thunder
runs around the sky
sounding like children’s footsteps
up and down the hall