Driving
up the hill
towards the cabin
taking stock of our visit so far
one chipmunk
no deer
no bear
(taxidermied animals don’t count)
Cresting
the hill
two does stood
in the middle of the road
paused, then
continued over the fence to join a third
That night
in the rain
we sat in rockers
on the porch
listening. simple pleasures shared.
Earth so dry Beginning to relinquish hold on a landscape slowly losing the struggle to dig deep enough for life sustaining moisture – sprinklers small comfort. Into each heated night, cicadas loose a relentless, high-pitched plea – no relief and dawn arrives – gray as the day before. And yet – yet the strawberry pot…
How far? I ask (is the ocean) whenever we are somewhere the ocean is not – often comes the reply “not far..” (Perhaps a few hour’s or a day’s drive) ‘Not far’ is a distance measured on the scent of a breeze something palpable in the atmosphere in fog rolling across the land ‘Not far’…
Unable to reconcile a relative of the onion growing among grape vines…
Washington Idaho Montana nothing in every direction. we play with the cats for diversion passing them between our two-car caravan Wyoming breakfast at the Harley and Cowboy truck stop complete with petting zoo buffalo Dakota plains undulate and stretch forever creeping into my consciousness I watch them for a long time – young Indian boys…
Who made you king? Do you terrorize the neighborhood in retaliation for your abandonment? Twenty pounds of arrogance straining to exit the storm drain gangster cat Your slovenly swagger down the street means nothing to me Watch out Some day I might tame you.
Car packed slowly we pull away (from the curb?) Leaving Dog cats, kids sleepless nights final projects, exams sprinkled throughout the city all – left behind and wrapped in the sultry fragrance of an early Savannah morning Off the tree caught in my backward glance I break one bud to take with us Every five…