A woman travels far to
find out who she is
Today I am paper
cut into a snowflake
pasted on a dark blue page
Rain scratches through
a nearby grove
It is you, crossing the room
to grab your keys
Cold air makes my nose run
Words make my eyes water
Shivers shake me in the sheets
wake me to another day
Soft fog is silent atop Lake Samish
The sleepy water snores against its shore
Glacier waters bounce off rock-face
leaping down into the warm bed like cold feet.
The lake sits as milk on the bottom of the bowl
A ring of jagged evergreens holds it all down
I squint and the view is a painting
with no middle. Canvas unfinished. Brushes rest.
Difficult to capture―the artist saves it for last.