the wild moving red

the slipslide of ice
on the gravel where we walk
into blustery wind
on a kind of day where too many layers
is probably not enough
first the sound
then the sight
of some mighty V
moving overhead:
not geese
but cranes
whose sound is more of a haunt
and a song
than a honk
open mics are still one of the ways
i believe in people
laurel says

at the open mic
where about 10 of us gather
in the downtown storefronty space
to read/share
our work

the mug that cracks
as jennifer pours hot water for tea
into the ceramic vessel that was just out
in a car on a 20 degree day

the wild moving red
in the video footage
of northern california fires traveling swift and
devouring everything in their paths and
while the footage comes from someone driving through flame
to get out, i think of the wild creatures