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.