Just below the ridge line, east of Tinnamon's Creek, that's where we found Lily's dachshund.
The brown, island patch of fur beneath its snout was caked with blood -- throat turn, chewed.
No coat remained on its front legs. Framework mostly. Some dangling, loose tissue.
White fibers I didn't recognize dotted the shriveled body. How many days had it been?
Three? Four?

"What'd you expect to find?" Harvey said, lifting the tag. "Brannagh. 5321 Starlite Drive."

"I know, I know. Lily's still going to break. Doesn't matter what I expected."

Harvey ran his palm along the dog's belly. Whispered something I didn't catch. The sun began to sink behind the mountains -- everything turned a variance of purple. And the wind came in, unannounced, as wind tends to do. What's the protocol on a dead dog? Bury at the scene of the crime? A pile of rocks left behind for hikers on the passing by to say, "I wonder what happened there." Or did we bag the unfortunate beast? Ring the doorbell. Ask Lily if she's got a shovel. Our fathers made no mention of times like that.

"I've never understood why people have pets," Harvey said. "Do you just want to be miserable? Your cat Socks, Millie, whatever, is gonna die. Your turtle Larry is gonna die. The charismatic hamster in the classroom, running the wheel, knows every step with its stupid paws could be its last. 22 fourth graders taught expiration dates. Teachers sign up for that. Brannagh was gonna die. Lily knew she'd outlive the dog."

Four deer looked on down by the creek. Still, yet comfortable in their stillness. I could have touched them if I wanted to. I hated that. Deer in Colorado made me feel powerless. They assumed, automatically, that I carried no firearm, only a camera and a bit of Chex Mix. Pallid threads continued to float down from the sky.

"What is this stuff?" I asked.

"What stuff?"

"Falling. In her fur, right there. On your shirt. In your hair. The white stuff."

After a quick scan of his chest, Harvey pinched one of the white fibers between his index finger and thumb. Hardly gave it a thought before giving it a flick.

"They're just coming off the cottonwoods. Happens toward the end of spring," Harvey said, reaching in his back pocket and pulling out a garbage bag.

"Is that what we are going to do?"

"I'm not burying the dog out here. Lily needs closure. If she 'breaks,' she breaks."

Harvey opened the black bag. Stepped on the bottom of it. So it would hold against the wind.

"Put the dog in here," he said.

"I'm not doing that."

"Well, you have to."

"Why?"

"I'm holding the trash bag."

The dog's eyes weren't there. Whatever mysterious factor that leads people to buy dachshunds, whether concentrated dose of cuteness or unmerited friendliness, it had bled out. I walked around to the other side of the dog. Stuck my hands under its spine -- cleanest spot. Stiff from rigor mortis, sure, but stiffer than rigor mortis alone. I knew the stiffness of death from my childhood collection of unfortunate pets. The sun had baked him, made the matted tufts sharp. I dropped Brannagh in the bag. Harvey lifted up quickly, as to not let the corpse hit the ground.

With the deer still watching, we began to climb up the rockface, taking us back to the trail. My eyes fixated on my feet to avoid a misstep. Harvey took the lead, looking only forward. When he began to speak, he did not turn around.

"You know what's funny about the cottonwoods? I hadn't thought about this in a long time -- both my mom and dad had a theory about what you so eloquently called 'white stuff.' Mom, sticking by her poverty- and church-induced eternal optimism, said that the white strands falling from the sky, came off the clouds. 'Heaven's confetti,' she said. It was God reminding us that his grace reaches all of us."

"What did your dad think?"

"Well, Dad worked hard for what money we had, and going to church wasn't exactly his idea. Believed God owed him a little more. He didn't even sit with us. Back pew kinda guy. Mom would lead prayers focused solely on him moving up a few benches. Anyway, I say all that to say, being poor and going to church created optimism's opposite in my father. It wasn't long after I graduated high school, before I moved to Fort Collins, that Dad gave me his theory."

Harvey reached the top of the ridge. Gave me a hand. Dog's corpse slung over his shoulder. He looked at me.

"My dad said that the white strands from heaven weren't signs of encouragement. He said they were tears of those who'd gone before. People looking down, weeping at -- not only what violence brother does to brother -- but also at how we **** away every breath. 'Trading dreams for dollars.' "

"Which do you think is true."

Turning away from me, Harvey switched the garbage bag from his right shoulder to his left.

"Neither is an option. And to remind you, neither is the correct option. For the sake of humoring you?"

"Yes, for the sake of humoring me."

"I think my mother's would be more accurate."

"Why is that?"

"The cottonwoods shed one time a year. Seems to me that white stuff would be falling all the time if it was the disappointment and sorrow of those who've passed. One time a year. I can see God giving us a little something one time a year."

Washing over, it is a surprise
No noticeable trigger, even in retrospect
Nothing, and then BAM
A brick wall built in a moment as you step forwards
Hard to describe, my pen rusty from sitting tucked up in a drawer for so long
First I am me
Then me but not the same
How to define that inbetween?
Inconstant, shifting without warning
Dizzying to experience, shifts my emotions sideways
The one who laughs the loudest needs hope,
The one who is the rock needs stabilising
Or else TIP down as the little stones beneath shift around,
Down the cliff from the plateau
Leaving everyone else to cling to the rockface
How do I tell you that SHE makes me feel sick
When it had no effect yesterday?
It isn't he, nor always she, but neither ze nor they.
I am more than IT but less than she
How to tell you that she isn't me?
She was yesterday, the day before,
Today I am only me, as of 22:34
Tomorrow who knows?
But how to explain.

The battle of clothes.
Yesterday, curves accentuated
Today, too tight chest
Tool loose waist too tight hips
Nothing fits except the tears which spring to my eyes
Ever more easily.
Staining my cheeks, my sleeve sodden
I face the world and smile, laugh the loudest, help the most.
Nobody sees me crumble as i shift again,
Stagger slightly as it moves
Not back to where i once was,
But somewhere different once again.

My strength comes from me, but sometimes I can't help wishing I was  an elder daughter, a big sister, an average teenage girl.

That girl who smiles and laughs as you walk by?
Who you are jealous of?
She needs help more than most
The very word she can be jarring
But SHE smiles.

That clever girl who goes to the Catholic all girls around the corner?
Who you are jealous of?
Stupidity and cowardice to not be herself lie beneath.
Buries herself in schoolwork

That beautiful girl sits at a nearby table?
The one you are jealous of?
Beautiful is a dagger in her heart.
For she is not she nor he
Only somewhere in between
It is you these 'girls' are jealous of

I cannot feel my legs and my mind is numb
I refuse to hear your breath and my mouth is dumb
I can feel your hands, but I am not here
For I have gone away now

Away, to where you cannot find me, the real me
To a place where i finally feel safe, where i can be alive.

I have switched off my soul to survive this place
My flesh is detached and floats away from my face
I can sense your thrusts, in a different world
You may touch my body, not me.

me, that was a long time ago, before
Before the monster that paid a visit at night.
Now look inside me, and see the curdled mother's milk
that courses through my veins.
Twisted molecules of white, distorting purity of thought.

Do you really know how you destroyed my life
With your fatherly tone and that emotional knife
Held up to the heart of a vulnerable girl
Oh, how I wish I were dead

and yet, part of me is, for some of my life is over
Bud plucked, never to bloom the flower of unbridled youth

The black hole of the past pulls me back to those arms
I struggled so hard against those paternal charms
Alas, what chance a girl, who loved daddy so much
Please make my pain go away.

But it won't, deep inside, under granite blocks of hate
Hate for you and hate for me, how did we let this happen?

Grown up now, and struggling to cope
Life seems so hard I often have no hope
it all looks so black, here within my soul
Oh, to wipe the slate clean.

A vehicle of love used as a weapon of betrayal
How sick we all must be!

Half  forgotten memories jump out of  my mind
Oh how they came, and when you were so kind
Couldn't you see how tormented I was
God help me, for no one else will.

Time does not heal my angst, nor will it ever
You and you, father and friend will you ever comprehend?

Chameleon colours play a role in my life
Artificial boundaries, coping with strife
keep out tomorrow and push away the past
but somehow today sneaks on in.

i have left my body now, detached, flying away to safety
All males left behind, good and bad, partitioned off

Even as I ignore it, the past comes right back
biding its time for a surprise attack
How can I cope with this onslaught of love
So get out of my life right now.

The past, the past, those nights, oh revulsion, oh confusion
Lust, love, like, remorse, pain, a wailing cacophany of lost childhood.

I attempt to embrace a man, maturity found
But I lose my nerve, looks like dangerous ground
An immense struggle for a girl so fragmented
Can I ever become whole?

I wear my clothes, loose around my body
Passion and pain walled off from prying eyes.

Alone, am I sentenced to spend my life alone
for who will throw this dog an intimate bone ?
I need the courage to embrace my shadows
oh please help me face the past.

The light of your affections just cannot reach my soul, deep inside
The escape velocity of my sanity is not enough

I so want to let go, have my feelings reign free
Yet I can't, for the hurt residing deep within me
Imagine, for a minute, the cross that I bear
No wonder, I stay out of sight.

You see, i only feel connected when i am alone and safe
Yet i so yearn to love and be loved, vulnerable.

Finally, today I held you tight and felt your manhood
and it did not remind me of my childhood
Agony past and pain retreated
Will this last forever I ask?

Those boundaries that were so cruelly invaded
by one who said "I love you",  left me exposed.

So brick by brick I built up my self esteem
Self confidence at last, but is it all a dream
Open my eyes, will this all fade away
swept off on the winds of self doubt.

One step at a time, out from the abyss, that cave of betrayal
I will hold this moment tightly and treasure it.
Dare I believe in this place called trust?
A handhold hacked in the rockface of my tortured mind
Will it bear the weight of tomorrow's reality?
I can only  hope the silver thread that pulls me up
shall guide me forever forward
away from that sickness of him who is left behind.
I am a survivor and I shall reach the summit
of life's possibilities, although I have to tell you
Base camp did not help my journey!

MATRIX
ALIVE
TELL
MADNESS

APEX
PARAMOUNT
VORTEX
DRAINHOLE
      ­          
                  Dancefloor
                         ­     Ecstasy
                                        LSD
        ­                      HeadTrip
                         Rockface
                  TwinSoul
         AngelDress
                  Accepello
                         Soprano
                               HairSalon
                                          Soap
                               Spring
                        Ocean
                 Tornado
         Tsunami
        
            
                        HIGH HEALS
                        HOT ***
                        WET NESS
                        CAR PARK

SUMMIT
BABYLON
PB&J;
CONFECTION
AERESOL
AREOLA
NEWBORN
PRINCIPLES
                 ­    Who Knows
                       Good Day
                         ||°V°||
                  God BLESS God

Hanging from the rockface
fingers chalked, knuckles white
breathing in the view.
Feeling the rush, hearing the roar
gulls circle above, as you run below,
small against the landscape
kicking up sand and laughter
begging to join me up here
pleading to play with grapples and knots
no fear of falling, no fear at all,
there is no danger in danger when you're 6
Not when your Dad is Spiderman.

I close my eyes,
and I am anywhere.

I rest my head in the warm grass,
Breathe in the icy air,
Breathe out billows of music.
I taste the citrus clouds drifting and whisper encouragement.
Sunshine drips off my eyelashes into puddles.
I dance between them, splashing spectra on my shoes.
The trees arch around me, sighing green envy at my rainbow feet.
Tripping over shadows, memories glow,
Etched in bark, veined in a leaf, cracked in a rockface,
Lighting my way.
I am not afraid here.
I am just me.

As much as I love snow
I know it has to go
Melt away from me
Vanish into nature's keep
Dwell somewhere deep
Beyond the rockface steep
Also in my timeless sleep
Floating in my dreams

Will it hurt less and less
Every bygone winter
My thoughts are stressed
My heart is splintered
But sometimes I feel
Like the coldest steel
My missing snow
As the flowers grow

In spring water I drink
At the mountain's brink
Sometimes I feel it flow
In newborn streams aglow
Sparkling in nature's mask
Just before the dark
Hidden in evening mist
Escaping my clenching fists

And the wait is long
Time a distance strong
I pine for softness white
In the crisp chilly nights
Wait across the seasons
For unknown reasons
So I take some matches
And give myself to ashes

Defying the anger of the stormy winds
swearing at her erectness
she stood her ground on the rockface
stony woman, unafraid of raging seas, frosts
ships crashing at her feet.

With one eye winking/flashing,circling
she warned them of men with mustaches and machetes
marauding naked shores far below the banks
where caves in seawalls collided with the rumble
and dash of waves of protest. Nothing moved her.

She stood , solid as the ten commandments
unminding of the raging storms
doing her duty, flaunting her skirts
and dank steps up her heart which
stayed unflinching.

She was all my  new woman wanted to be.
st, peters basilica on this rock
holding the keys to my souls entry
into her private heavens
a house with many mansions.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago

I suppose
if I could metamorphose
Into a new skin
with wings
and a bigger brain

I would.

I contemplate
that this fate
may not be
the best for me.

And yet

I wait

I will grow
and cocooned in the modern american sheen
Dream of wings
miles away
from an airport or two
across the bay
they wave
from boys in areoplanes

I know
there is great green valleys for me
with deciduous trees
and anemones
and bears that ski
on their big fluffy bellies
in the shadow of some upthrust rockface

I beat
the drum of ****** life
and think the heavy drought of thought
and drink
the steaming heat of dreams

I knew
when I was a zygotic mass
imbibed with life
and stolen with soul

That I would be
The best ****** butterfly
You'll ever see.

i am
pebble.

i lay
here
at the foot
of a rockface.

i've one
streak
of misty rose hue
that runs through
my otherwise
speckled gray body,

but which
saturates and
deepens
when the angling sun
glances off it.

i have
known
nothing else

other than

this.

consequence
comes around
to visit me
every once in a while.

but i am
in my
own,

mostly.

once upon
a time
it would
seem
i was
hewn

from my
source,

lithos onyx rainbow
shimmer grin
from ear
to ear.

i am
now,

however,

rent, insulate, here -
but also
over there,
still,
somehow,

remembering
a lost memory
that must have
been once

i think.

seasons change slowly
so does life, you think it's
an eyeblink but no the seeds
have been in the ground germinating
for a long time sometimes a long, long time
and then thenew growth breaks through
and reaches for sunlight, growth is change
but then at the other end of the spectrum
so is decay, the breaking down of structures
the returning to the basic matter...all changes
so ergo we are in a continuim of change
are some larger than others. you would have
to answer affirmatively but are large changes
more important than the miniscule. That
question requires more thought before
giving an answer. Change is neccessary
without it there is a standstill in the cycle
and when still, we create no impact, we have
little to no power to affect the circumstances
around us....but even then when still, the
circumstances around us effect change
like wind and water upon the rockface
it may be over many many years but
change is effected and the immovable is
reduced by the action of persistance...
We cannot avoid change...so we should
try to reach for  it as does the sapling
in the forest that seeks the sun .....

Time weathered it 
Worn by salt and wind 
A testament to man and sea
And the sheer determination to survive.
Boats come in and out with the tides
Waves unrelenting...
Remember your roots
As the sea ravishes over rock.
There are few who stop to care,
But there is stillness to be found here

There is a magic in these misty cliffs
As the water crashes onto rockface
Sending turrets of spray into the air
And spiney fingers cascading down.
A race to reunite.
The ocean  moves...
A lobster *** buoy bobs up and down
The cliff erodes, ever so slowly

Seagulls sit on a cliff edge
perhaps resting, i do not know
A wave passes by
Teetering on the edge of explosion
I do not see it break as it passes out of view.
The surging ocean delights me
Dancing over rock
Having no care for destruction
Safety or form
It moves as it must
As it sees fit
Taking the best and only path.
Accepting its new form
in each moment
Giving life, Taking life
It cares not.
It must only move and this it knows 
You are welcome, but beware