clerestory

froth —dhm 46

nothing left to read but snow

pinpointmoss

sporeson un

brokensnow

yr legs choose a path w/out askng

glass... molasses... a snowy wood fungus

this snow crust’s underside moss-print

these woods’ every wood knot god’s eye

hands warm at last you reach those pines

snowmelt

furtuft

under pines a feather too long to take w you

rose from sleep leaving these oak leaves troubled

empty moon crater squirrel caches

stream-ice clerestory

there’s only moss & then you hear water

almost blind from looking then snowdrops

you dissolve w filigree stream ice

filigree stream ice gone on yr way

filigree stream ice not long now canoe

a fallen branchgnawedhunger’s length

these woodshappilyno one

—john martone2010