Hunter

winter rains race angrily at me from the jemez

race black gray across the staring faces expressions

of the deeply shadowed mesas

moments lengthen as the wind begins

to lick at pine trees whipping

finch hungrily feed 

flee to their juniper homes

I lick at my lips

taste what might be

the first drops of time

running from a 
hunting

rain

jppestana

Hunter

2.3.2019