We forgo the chipped pathways and lose ourselves in the graying blur of dusk, trees erasing themselves at their edges, becoming memories of
Later than bedtime, we stand in the unpaved road looking up. Neighbors not sure what to believe as we search fixed constellations for
Tamarack Fire, 2021 O ashfall, o char-choke o incineration-stink O gust-blown, o tempest-spread spotfire spotfire spotfire O silverblue