Three Ponderosa

Close the eyes, and slip in

to that dark space.

A moment, then none.

No time.

I cannot explain.

Deep

in the pine woods

the water running by logs

and rafts

of flowers.

I come back, then go again.

A breath, or maybe more time passes.

In the dark: wavy changy patterns, like the bark

of Ponderosa.

The old trees dance so slow.

And the moons soft glow.

I can’t even see, anymore:

who I am

or how I’ll be.