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I wake to a cold riddled forenoon as the pale face sun welcomes the winters gloom no month more free of flaming embers than this bleak december our brute winter has finally come the beauty of summer finally undone all the trees stand bare at high noon like a child who lays naked in its mothers...

When I run through the forest, with my arms outstretched and the sun is barely out of reach, I can feel with my hands a wall of darkness and the twilight’s breach I can feel with my palms where the treetops are barren, where the sky is bright where the raindrops are heavier, where the evening...