ian's evening sky
winds all day yesterday
smoke seems to have blown out for a bit
(or maybe not, i don't know this place much)
and i don't smell it now, anyway.
but the morning sky is bluer and the mountains
are black/deep green/tan
(is that snow on a ridge?)
smoke in the air, maybe
dust on my shoes
removed by the door.
the longing for water.
a creek cantering by
willows drought dead, now revive
hug the edges and hide.
different than home
so beautiful and i want to say
vital, tenacious, fragile and gifted to me
for a fortnight.