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

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

it is March now. winter hangs on while spring looks on waiting.

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

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

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

when you get started and you don’t… start digging slowly and softly, move things around. i turned over a rock

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

everyone sees the red-torn deer ca… the mess made dragging her to be shouldered, everyone gawks and shifts the weight of

leeks bursting seedpods, equinox of our summer, moon becoming full.

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

tension stretching strings of muscle in the dirt warmth next to wildflowers, my feet stepping in prayers.

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

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

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