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

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

Truck sounds like metal on metal– grinding coughing hard–

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

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,

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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.