everyone sees the red-torn deer ca… the mess made dragging her to be shouldered, everyone gawks and shifts the weight of
the best strawberry is the smallest, not-in-the-garden strawberry that grows between and beneath the grass and tallgrass
we held the dream between our holding hands. we held our hands in the warmth of my coat pocket
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.
tension stretching strings of muscle in the dirt warmth next to wildflowers, my feet stepping in prayers.
it is March now. winter hangs on while spring looks on waiting.
like the name says, we were there together. and it wasn’t long before we had built a fire and stargazing became staring down
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
leeks bursting seedpods, equinox of our summer, moon becoming full.
before you go, things left undone. loose ends, too many to tie so quickly.
sit in a tunnel fall at the northernmost point trip around the sun.
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.
After close, the image loosens until it is just being held together.
Truck sounds like metal on metal– grinding coughing hard–
