The white moon outshines whispering stars,
Illuminating my face and feet.
I step softly on the splintered porch,
Standing before the dark mountain shade.
My hand rests below my collarbone,
Fingers press into my steady pulse.

I belong in the sweet, frosty air
Where I can view blue and green mountains.
My eyes well, winking dark mirror ponds.
Each night mountains kiss the blanket edge,
Protecting nature’s wild secrets
Behind celestial tree-locked walls.