I followed the train tracks westward – the land flattened before heading deep into the mountains – I see them from the boxcar. I jumped into this one outside of Carson City just before midnight – running from behind an abandoned shack, the slow roll of the train.
A few zen moments as I took the snowshoes through the woods and to the hill top overlooking a nature preserve and frozen ponds filled with crisscrossing deer tracks. (1) In winter’s depth We scan the frozen lake’s shoreline glowing beneath the sun. In winter’s depth The white landscape Keeps her secrets and Resists the […]
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