-1-
The mountain hides
Wrapped by the storm that
Presses cool kisses to my temples
Unleashes a tide of snow
To blanket the sleeping Earth
I watch snow dust the feathers
Of geese floating calm water
They call to each other
Remember how before the night came
The mud gave
Soft beneath webbed feet
Sparkled with frost
Crackled with ice.
-2-
A grey curtain of water hushes drowsy pines
The tap of raindrops beading on my helmet
As the forest fades into charcoal
Fog drifts and winds through charred snags and bare branches
The clouds come to Earth to walk this wild cemetery
With reverence
My pedals crank steady up the hill
The slow slosh of tires through puddles of beige
Seeping into the sand
The rain flings itself at my face
Wind in my ears, wild with the screech of wet brakes
My phone battery died from the cold long ago
I return to the parking lot
Wrestle a muddy bike onto the rack
Splattered in sand and storm
Smiling
In the fogging car
I wrestle out of a soaked jersey
Pull a warm sweatshirt over clammy skin
I drive home to the
Swish
Tap
Of wipers across my windshield
The red glow of tail lights
Heater humming.
-3-
At first the snow drifts sideways
In a delicate dance with the pear tree branches
The kettle keens as
I arrange Mandarin oranges
In a cheery yellow bowl
Dimpled peel waxy beneath my fingertips
And now the window frames a snow globe
Echoing with the croon of a distant train
The cottonwood and the chokecherries now twins
Branches gently swaying in the swirl of flakes
That dive and twirl like winter swallows
Lightning bugs of white
Two pigeons race home
Out past the power lines
My nails bite into orange rind
A flower that blossoms beneath my hands.
-4-
First light glows in the mist rising off the lake
The kayak slices through the water
The entire valley vibrates with
The strident calls of geese echoing from every direction
The mountains rest, deep in slumber behind gauzy curtains as
The sun heaves its blinding glory over the forested ridgeline
Sets the fog a dance with copper
Like the taste of a penny placed beneath your tongue
Of all the places I’ve cried for you
This was the most beautiful.
Places I Have Cried for You
Linea Jantz has worked in a wide range of roles over the years including waste management, medical records, paralegal, and teacher. Her writing is featured in publications including The Greyhound Journal, Beaver Magazine, Unbroken, The Dyrt Magazine, and EcoTheo Review. Her poetry was featured in the ARS POETICA juried art exhibit at Blowing Rock Art & History Museum and has received a nomination for Best of Net. She has been a presenter for the Poetry Moment for Spokane Public Radio and is the current Writing the Land Poet for the Sunnyside-Snake River Wildlife Area.