Lake bled at sunrise

a burnished mirror that

glows,

except in those parts

where it does not:

in the shadows of the church,

and below a rowboat.

*

Sitting on the edge of the dock, I told my phone the tales of those places I had been, of the wonders,
and the small joys I had found in each moment...

THE SMALL WONDERS OF SLOVENIA

tiny unlit tunnels open onto
an expanse of mountain sunlight
and
hilltop oases of ten houses.

mist collecting in valley pools.
frost on the tippy-tree-tops.

delicate twig-cages,
capturing
brick mountains
of golden straw.

the smell of wood smoke.

a little church sits in the middle
connects every house
of every village.

the cold of winter reaches
icy fingers through windows.

railroad viaducts,
an expanse of river
splayed green beneath.

a set of traffic lights
waits on a high road
for a car or two
to pass by,
(but not at the same time
as that would be dangerous
given the small space.)

glacial blue rivers
ivy and moss
on a dripping black cliff.

cows in the meadow.

firecrackers at midnight
and stars unhindered
shining upon my
closed eyelids.