Dear House,

This is a love poem

to the structures that you bring forward

not just in beam or

door

but to the cradle of you

that ushers forth song

Dear Snow,

this is a love poem to you

for the unraveling that you

force on foliage

so that all seems to be naked

and bark becomes unabashedly exposed

(though I am bundled)

Dear you who are reading,

what is it you want from the pictures I give?

Do you think you are the place that they have come from in your seeing?

Perhaps they are.

Your molecules are my mates.

This is a love poem to you.

-Moksha Sommer (yes, I am the doer of the artworks too)