Temporary Dwelling

By Brandon Krieg
May 9th, 2014

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Valley either side,
I on the spine, this way

goldenrod, this
chaparral. Far down,

still roans, a rubbled
ledge, one

cloud-eclipsed then
brilliant house

from which someone
would see me as

gold blazonry (a live-
oak’s leaves,

a pine’s held cones,
a roughened

sandstone firebreak
road’s ascent to

sun) a cloud-bank
shadow crosses gone.