By Carol Bell


snakes slip into the world of sandstone

into the wind’s hollow creations

where songs are born and the sun dances


streams plunge and tumble into gullies

over rocks into mudded spaces

spraying the sky and singing, singing


while I wander inside glass-clad dreams

where the sky trembles and the moon howls

and I am nothing and everything



Carol Bell began writing as a small child, but her love of chemistry pushed writing into the background. Then, after retiring from a life full of gas chromatographs, titrations, and flasks, she grabbed a degree in English and moved to a ranch in a Colorado mountain valley. Once settled, she began to follow the lure of working with the land while writing poetry and short stories. Her work has been published in numerous journals, and she continues writing in the mountains.

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