Under far
cumulus cliffs
in a circle
of bone soil
one vapor plume
leans and twists
Brief white spurts tease
with collapse
until ghosts boil
ascending
Peaked hoods and
shoulders warp up
a scroll with
winter mountains
become flame-
tongues of wild steam
Rock fissures
over magma
shout old rain
back at heaven

——————————————————
Note: All of the art, writing, and music on this site belongs to the person who created it. Copying or republishing anything you see here without express and written permission from the author or artist is strictly prohibited.