I’m not on Tumblr much, but when I am my favorite poet is at Inconsolable Narrative–

A recent post seems to be from a visit to Siberia, although usually she blogs from abroad:

In my room, there is a wooden plank in the floor which squeaks loudly under your foot. The table in the kitchen creaks when you place an elbow on it. A fly buzzes near the window trying to propel its strong little body through the glass. The house is full of noises.
On the street, after the dark falls, the only sound I hear is a solitary remote barking.