In front of the yarn store, beside the sheep pasture, tucked into the long green hillside, the orange cat preens
I drove there by myself
Also the old fire road, eighteen inches of fresh snow and the Honda sliding around switchbacks
One-handed down Good Drive, on my way to other places
Give him some space
Give him some time
Let him find his way back to you
I miss the alpine evergreens
Here in my heart, what do they teach me
Try this novel thing:
I'm just not going to stop being myself
Let the chips fall
