Dwelling comes to mind
as it has, lately.
Image sand themselves together
of a hold in the side of a mountain
one little window.
There are rocks outside
and a rabbitbrush garden
just about done
with its yellow autumn swoon.
It rained.
The mountain's sides
grip shoes with confidence
the vertical fence torn down
by tread that holds heavier
than on a dry-drift day.
Elizabeth Bishop's darkness
offers the penetration sun
an out: go below and become
the night, mid-day.
The marmots live here too
and last they were checked
they are healthy,
free from plague.
Roman Ryan 