(2012)
when you get started and you don’t… start digging slowly and softly, move things around. i turned over a rock
A stone in the lake old as water. Older than any question. Older than dirt and more stubborn. Round.
leeks bursting seedpods, equinox of our summer, moon becoming full.
Truck sounds like metal on metal– grinding coughing hard–
sit in a tunnel fall at the northernmost point trip around the sun.
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.
the still rising sun calls to you to rise; early morning dawn light brings you to a particular log and leaves you there,
tension stretching strings of muscle in the dirt warmth next to wildflowers, my feet stepping in prayers.
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 cod and beer almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s
Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in… almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s just too easy
everyone sees the red-torn deer ca… the mess made dragging her to be shouldered, everyone gawks and shifts the weight of
some metal piece out of place disturbs everything and suddenly i’m windbound on a calm night. left to my own devices,
something feels as though it is at unease because it has not settled.