Poetry arrivedThese are days when breath rises from beneath the snow. Life has gone underground. The rabbit tracks in the front yard confirm the transition. I relish the morning chill curled in our sheets, while the sky unloads another blanket.
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river. ~ Pablo Neruda
Adjusting for the weather, I take on my surroundings the way a snow leopard mirrors the elements. There's a bridge and my shoulder blades arch up; a path and my fingers curl into paws. When a yellowy light foams across the horizon, my bones crack into branches.
I can't promise more than what the day brings. Edmonton is like that, sometimes.