i was alone
    in a room in a house in the town
    and somewhere nearby
    or maybe far away
    the trees waved
    a strange hello
"don't go into the woods alone"
    but i didn't listen
    for there was something that called me
    oh so sweetly
    into the forest that night
 and in the morning with dark eyes
    she wakes cloaked in December's dreary mantle
    and sleeps
    and wakes again
    and there with the birds perched lightly on the feeder's cage she thinks;
    "if i was small like the junco i too could
    fit between the bars of the cage
    but i am small
    like me"
late spring early summer
      for months and months at a time
      the tide pulls out and out and out
      for a thousand leagues across the horizon
      an alien planet is born
      a gift from the sea
      here we seek upon the tidal plain
      the massive coiling shells
      remants of giants
      passed from snail
      to lonesome crab
      and now to us
      our home is here within the spirals
      nestled amongst the dunes and seagrass
      
      come the morning i'll gaze out upon the
      intertidal realm
      the thick salty mud filling my nostrils
      the sun radiating strongly with the hazy hazy glow of seaglass blues
      and feel my toes sink into the muck