Small pockets carry Obsidian nights

Dry tears and flash floods,
How many rivers do we have to cross?

Pray, dance, and scream
Quapaw, 1/8 Sioux
Great-Grandmother Consuelo
Earth-tones braid loose ends in my hair
A Painting, a wind swept dream.

Oh Wyoming, the West, the Wild!
Horny Toads, Antelope, Fish fossils
Dry open spaces, I am still your child.

Salamander, Blue Heron, Crawdad
Wildflowers, maypoles, sweet wise little Sister
Bear Gulch.. my roots, our Mountain
Logging trucks, swimming holes
Railroad tracks, tin cans
Our loving, strong and searching
Deadbeat Dad.

Dried flowers and brittle maps
Distant lovers, stray cats.

Squirrels!
Annabelle, sweet one born
Willamette Valley, your berries!
You took Danielle, but I have her too
Alder, and pool tables
Long braids, lost curls.

Northern lights and fishing careers
AK, The Last Frontier
Heartbeats surf, Big Love, on tides
Wide eyed, and drifting
Muskegs, boats, and beers.

Leather and lace
Sage pressing starlight
Discovering myself
A true lover of place.