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

the truck is gone. the truck is scrap. (just that one half of the bumper, just that license plate from Big… everything else is gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

some metal piece out of place disturbs everything and suddenly i’m windbound on a calm night. left to my own devices,

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

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

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

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

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

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