Thursday, September 20, 2012

This was one:

"Little duck cabin place.
In an old boat on dry land with his guitar and the sort-of-company she provides
while writing postcards.
Strong sun plays Spanish chords and
Utah breezes carry the sweet scent
of dry baked pollen and manure.
(Each particularly strong gust ruffles the feather in my hair--I
pretending to be an Indian.)
I wish I had a disposable camera, because those capture this empty-happy
feeling.  Cow feeling.
I love it.
There are very few moments when I realize that I am happy."

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