Above the Tree Line

                         "Cada vez que abro los labios
                         Inundo de nubes el vacío."*

                                              Vicente Huidobro

Cold bitter roll

out of the sleeping bag,

flash of fire and a cigarette

frantically inhaled,

warm perch and hot coffee

in the golden morning sun--

                         nicotine, caffeine & bright light:

the animal arctic and addicted,

billowing with vapor,

ends another Ice Age night....

E. A. Costa

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N.B.: * "Every time I open my lips, I flood the void with clouds."