Book-Club

In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and mountains of the Mexican border I’ve followed the calls of birds that don’t exist into thickets

Starbucks buzzes loud, In coffee cups, flowers bloom— Secret gardens hide. - LFB + AI

I sat on the bank of the Middle Fork, My line cast in the shimmering pool, Like hopes thrown casually into the future. I thought about how truth, slippery and elusive, Was a lot like the trout I never caught.

Chains of routine bind, Dreams of wild, open skies call, Soul yearns to break free. - LFB + AI

River winds its course, Life’s push and pull shape its path, Flowing to the sea. - LFB + AI

Old man in the dark, Rain whispers of lost loves past, Tears blend with the storm. - LFB + AI

I’m not sure what this is. It started as a dream, I think. I wrote some words down about the feeling I had, about the character that appeared. I thought it might be a song, but no. It’s just this:

My friend Judith survived the conflagration that was the Dixie fire of 2021. It devastated her home town of Greenville, CA. She can’t leave as she has no one to take her away. So she walks and remembers. I think of her. I worry about her.

Didn’t I know you? Before. Ages back? When we stood together, incarnate? Didn’t I know you? Before the pitch pine dried up,

She used to talk to me. About her life. Happily sometimes, Sometimes not. Scenes from her inner landscape. I would marvel at the delight she took