The sun sets on wrinkled rose hips. They bob beside the tracks approaching Grand Avenue while underneath a leafless tree floats a ghost of gnats, looping and circling like chips of quartz. Gossamer spiderwebs drift above the rails and catch the twilight like fire. Pine needles slowly reclaim this path, burying wood and steel. The Palouse River sweeps fallen leaves along as it whispers southwest from its origin in the Hoodoo Mountains to the Snake River.
white spider weaves a web
above clear water
as night overflows its banks
November 20, 2020
Aidan Barger is an EcoArts Intern and a Creative Writing Major. See his full profile here.