MISTS AND VAPOuRS
20 April 2018
hot springs, a holy place
a trinity of water-forms
billowing clouds
bubbling pots
and the snow,
laid out in a fine drizzle
upon sodden ground
toes squishing through muddy fields
to an outcrop of mineral mounds
waters wrapped around my body
precisely the way clothing isn’t
a process of sublimation begins
dissolving a little at the edges
I am turned from solid form
into steam,
mists and vapours
I languor a while, lost in a daydream
and then
I drape myself over the cool earth
