Tides

Darkened running pools in the distant shadow

elude my seeing.

Ice and snow caress the slippery, wet ray of gloomy morning bright.

Waiting brushes past brittle buds

Waiting flickers across my face

Waiting breathes in easy hesitation;

a continental meeting of moon and mountain stirs beneath the pale orange fading,

far from now and near to whenever I choose to raise my gaze

toward blue and white wonder.