this morning in Terry, Montana
the snow didn’t arrive loudly.
it came the way truth does
without asking permission.
the world softened overnight.
fences blurred into suggestions.
roads forgot where they were going.
even time slowed its step,
as if it didn’t want to disturb
what had settled here.
snow has a way of erasing the unnecessary.
it doesn’t argue.
it doesn’t explain.
it just covers
and somehow, in covering everything,
reveals what matters.
i stood still long enough
to hear the quiet working.
the kind of quiet that isn’t empty,
but full
full of breath,
full of pause,
full of Montana being exactly what it is.
three moments.
one morning.
the prairie remembering itself in white.
Beautiful thoughts












