by Carol Casey The path is trodden, dusty, level.You know it will take youwhere many have gone. Step off—tangles of brambles,sometimes with blackberries,more often with little clawsthat catch on clothes and skin;and tortuous tree roots—inconvenient, sacred data unearthed—subterranean snakelets somehowsifted into snarls for feet to catch.There are stems that twine…
by Twixt A pattern is argyled on the surface of the highland stream, on the trouts’ flank-flash, on the pebbled, fundamental bottom. In its back-drift wake picture-perfects snake.
by Twixt And the wind blows, and reblows what was blown, and well-felt featly dealt rains are arraigned, a blank bank of souffled clouds appears drained, perky percolations gradually pool.