Written 5/3/21 at Earth Mtn. Farm:
I woke up in my rain pocket this morning.
Rain turned to sleet, then snow, then rain again.
My half-awake ears could feel the frost, but I was cozy in my pocket.
Roosters roared, reminding me of an elephant blowing its trunk.
The farm dogs yipped at the early morning wind.
Rustling tent zippers and hushed tired whispers,
My cocoon kept me warm.
My mind wanders to a slightly buttered, toasted bagel.
I deliberate if my bladder is more uncomfortable than being cold.
Excitement buzzing in my heart for newly born kittens and milking Lulu
I step out of my pocket to the ecstatic touch of the frozen air.
I reach for a strong embrace from someone special, the warmth surrounds me.
I’m now bundled and moseying down to the outdoor kitchen,
The scent of earl grey tea and freshly hydrated oats wafts past.
I can see the floating ice land on the tips of my black hair.
Lulu peeks her hornless head from the doghouse shes taken over in the cold.
All living things need to feel that warmth.
I can imagine myself here in the future, I think to myself.
Written 4/25/21 on the San Juan river:
My eyes need no assistance to write during a full moon.
Only the shadow from the wisps of my hair cause my pen to falter now and then.
Mother moon creates the illusion of the rest of the sky, simply being its silhouette.
At her strength, she eclipses our vision of the rest of the stars.
Mother moon is magnificent, she absorbs our sky.
The glistening reflection of her light glares off of my river duckie bed.
The slick rubber is still cold to touch.
Moonlight sits through sleeves of the night roaming clouds, wafting past.
I note the shadow from the canyon red rocks,
Shaped by the same moon for billions of years.
Mother moon defines chronic peace.
Her illustrious sphere spits out ocean tides.
She watches over me as I cowboy camp, and provides me with light when I lose my headlamp.
I am safe.