Alberta

I've been writing, but not posting. These ideas are from a recent trip home; written amongst the wolves and wheat.

attachment,
non-attachment —
then Lot’s wife looked back

the sound of one leaf
is nothing compared to the
sound of many leaves
dying — and isn’t it quite
a bit like the sound of fire?

oh! great wheat brown slate
Alberta; gallant echo
of the Trans Can and
nosebleed dry place, with purring
slab of chinook cloud in sky