The trees tonight are made of snow, fragile creations that look as if a single touch would collapse their form into drifting dunes. It is a dreamscape through which I float in seamless wonder. The mist rises, an apparition of the river, haunting my thoughts and clinging to the thin boundary of my skin. Yet it is the trees that hold me, a willing captive to their tenuous beauty.

Listen

Connect

Join the email list!

Find Me