Seriously, it was pretty good.

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You the hero in here I said,. As a newly boarded passenger opened up the windows. On the late afternoon bus into the county. An early April day felt like early May. On the shoreline toes of the Cascades,. Buzzed from cheap beer and rays caught in the grass. She needed air after a quick run to the station. In knee-high black leather boots at that,. And a knee-high wool-blend skirt. The bus was full enough to bring strangers close together,. Waiting for the right words,.

Eyes follow lines that laced wings beat. Into the wind, making changes. Across scenes hiked by your two feet. To dance nightly with my mother. For one more mile of rock. Complaining of burdens and memories. On knees I once bounced on. With the yellow cups the laced wings drink from. For one more mile of rock.