about your life
I asked him an attempt to skew his mind off of the rants and frustrations
surprise he answered with such tenderness
the sunrise I can count on every morning as I walk to work the mountains tinting with the touch
my plants on the deck rail W and I cooking soup in the kitchen
vodka after work
my bike
my board
the way my desk sits in the room in my waking sightline
moose
deer
raccoons
knowing there are only seven weeks left and then
it all becomes new
again