Paradise was once a mining town in southern Arizona, and some imagined it to be a new start in the USA.
Ringtail hanging from the stars
by its tail, Elf Owl
scratching an itch in the air, a fox
licking ice from the moon: it’s midnight
on a winding trail
through a forest breathing frost.
Whose step is that, breaking
on a fallen branch? In which language
does a heart beat
when the compass needle shivers?
Come thaw
there’ll be a country where
the snow had been, the aftersmell
of woodsmoke and
a raven’s call to welcome
lost souls home.