One Poem by Krissy Kludt (opens in new tab)

Last In the hills I was called to open. Dusk now. Lilac dim murmurs over mountain glow; in golden oak, shadows rouse. I press palm to dust, rub soft grains between fingers, touch chest, forehead, my hair. This place is in me now. Acorn woodpecker, quiet tonight, spies me passing, red head and the flame of one green eye. Warmth invites skin to mingle with creosote-buttered air. Crickets call above frenzied ants; owl and I watch each other through crooked […] The post One Poem by Krissy Kludt a...