Spirit on the Mountain

When Tanith eclipses Sol's light,

her violet shadow spills over

the mountain scape.

There, below, tucked between folds of earth and stone,

dwells a house;

its tuscany clay walls scratched

by brazen ice petals.

The roof, a sage brown, is weighed down

by evergreen needles.

Sheltered inside, deafly asleep, Time’s arcane

In the twilight, she stirs, chrysanthemum eyes bloom.

Jumping out of bed, its sheets flying high.

The bare feet leave behind windswept brume.

Outside in the pink driftfloons,

her dance carves through the blades of grass.

Each step weaves threads of hickory stone.

High bone cheeks race to scarlet

as dawn transforms the sky.