by Barbara A. Meier

The cloud gnaws at
the spine of the mountain,
cracking the bone to

get at the marrow,
licking the earth’s juices
dribbling down the

chin, soaking shoulders,
undercutting the highway, spitting it to sea.


Barbara A. Meier has spent the last four years living on the Southern Oregon Coast where she got to experience the Hooskanaden slide take out Hiway 101. She currently resides in Castle Rock, CO. Her first Micro Chapbook, Wildfire LAL 6, came out this summer from Ghost City Press. She has been published in The Poeming Pigeon, TD, LR Catching Fire Anthology and The Fourth River. Find Barbara at