For Kathleen Kolb
The way light stops on the side of the white house,
works with bare trees to make shadows on the grass.
Clouds in their colors: yellow, purple, blue, gray.
What moonlight does to snow. How streetlamps
change houses. Icebergs in context. The shapes
of men and machines against the mountains and the sky.
The sawmill I passed every day and did not see
until I saw it hanging on a wall, every log and wisp of smoke.
The house that anchored the old farm
where last winter my old neighbor died.