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

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

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

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

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

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…

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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