Tuesday, May 1, 2018

The Spaces Between


They come and go, these crazy fires of desire. The latest one burns for a tiny-house truck camper or teardrop trailer. I so want out of here and to hit the road that I can't sleep at night. I know I am running away. But the fantasies are so real I can move into them until my "real world" comes charging through the veil of my day dream. Getting the house cleaned up and rented, papers graded, reports evaluated, prison business tied up, all nag at me. I can't wait to get back to my visions of deep, red, breathing canyons that whisper with seeps of life-sustaining water, the water of what might be in some other land, some other life.

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