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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

Truck sounds like metal on metal– grinding coughing hard–

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

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

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

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