the best strawberry is the smallest, not-in-the-garden strawberry that grows between and beneath the grass and tallgrass

Truck sounds like metal on metal– grinding coughing hard–

before you go, things left undone. loose ends, too many to tie so quickly.

After close, the image loosens until it is just being held together.

sit in a tunnel fall at the northernmost point trip around the sun.

Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in… almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s just too easy

jump in the truck, and disappear in moments measured in rust, that flakes off in the friction of…

the Aurora roared above us and in sweeping, arcing curves mimicked the path of the luge.

refreshing to know there’s still n… that’s unsure of its footing. love that’s unsure of what to do a… standing in the truck head-light g… feeling small

like the name says, we were there together. and it wasn’t long before we had built a fire and stargazing became staring down

A stone in the lake old as water. Older than any question. Older than dirt and more stubborn. Round.

the still rising sun calls to you to rise; early morning dawn light brings you to a particular log and leaves you there,

something feels as though it is at unease because it has not settled.

we held the dream between our holding hands. we held our hands in the warmth of my coat pocket

Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in cod and beer almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s