LIII.

i remember
too much.
can't shake the days --
as though they were real ?

countless cups of red coffee
stretched afternoons in the concrete church
aimless drives, rhythm and blues
your fingers follow the switchback sounds
drifting from the wheel
"well, i had this cousin --"

steering into fields of nostalgia
remember geri?
remember local natives?
remember vietnam?
you know i do --

early days waking
something blinking to timid life
a letter, and you were away for three weeks
i left it in your mailbox at midnight

now i leave you a stone from the midnight sun
no words, just a page from this tattered journal
just a thanks for what i can't describe