li po in montana ::

perhaps the winter

was more than you

bargained for but

these juniper woods and

plains are no different

from your many-flowered mountains

filled with shabby

old taoists ::

here we have

ancient

silent

tobacco-twist cowboys

and medicine men :

and a spring moon the color

of glaciers and hills ::

staring at the fading

crescent

in april's shadow

don't reach so far to touch it

or you may fall

through the obsidian sky

and emerge beyond

this cold and

nightbound jewel ::

falling : falling :

ghostwheel moon :::