a wordless narrative #2.

a train ride.
towards friends, gregg and marisol.
rich blue skies.
sun kissed wood.
licks and jumping fur.
cool water in evening light.
a love story on a rippling sheet under stars and amidst crickets and birds. and a fire.
chocolate cake and beer. (yes together) after steak and garden greens.
sleep.
and then.
morning swimming. alone. floating. and summersaults.
taking it in.
a puppy named chica.
a smooth sweet flirty dog named chulo.
and elegant maya. 15 years old. sleeping. always. and dreaming of play and running and treats and all the hugs and kisses in foreverville where comfort and endless memories with her cool mama, marisol await her.
and gregg. i wrote a poem for him once. or twice. a friend for life. years ago he walked deep in the woods with me. he, a shovel in his hand. me, my dead cat's body in a back pack. we buried her together. he was the only one near that i trusted. he lost a shoe (a dress shoe at that) down a steep hill while climbing towards the best spot. we buried her on a hill near a stream. i planted poppies. we found his shoe.

and then a train ride back to brooklyn. to "meat".

enjoy the show.