From a Fool's Perspective

A crow stirred on the telephone wire beside the electric pole adorned with transformers. Almost at her eye level, he adjusted his wings and settled into place. She sure knew how to pick 'em. But the clouds would come down to greet the earth. And everything would be free to be its own self. Leaning on the door jam, she raised her red coffee mug in salutation, glad to have him in the neighborhood.

Dawn of the Jukebox

The clouds came down to greet the earth and she stood in the open back door, barefoot, bed-headed, and delighted. Everything would be free to be its own self again. She was wiser, but always and still a fool. Rubbing her eyes, Ursula smiled and inhaled deeply. It was good to make someone happy.

We marked a month on our calenders

and craved flannel and the arching spark of campfire conversation.