THE THAW

There is a mountain

in the distance.

It is covered 

in snow. A wood  

block image. Hand- 

tinted with water color.

All printed on 

a greeting card.

Two redwoods stand

side by side

like ancients

wordlessly contemplating 

the distant range, 

gesturing

toward it: Will

the mountain

ever thaw?

There is no actual 

mountain. No mind-

melding between trees. 

No snow. There is only 

ink on paper

and the silence 

the cursive 

inside creates

as it etches its way

across a blizzard

of white.