A mountain draws in deeper
root, tangle, trunk, cloud –
the whole of branches threaded through it.
This hour –
the last spokes of sunlight down through cedar,
sky unpainting everything in shadow,
forest filling up with darkness –
Words and image by Sarah Rehfeldt. Please do not copy without my permission.
Poem published in Appalachia, vol. LXVII, no. 1 (Winter/Spring 2016): http://www.outdoors.org/publications/appalachia/index.cfm
and reprinted in Northern Cardinal Review (March 2016).