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

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

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

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.

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,

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

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

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.

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

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

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