Mt. Rainier, WA

Summit dreamer, I know you’re sleeping. Mapping out your future with the streams. Mountain boy, I know you’ll miss me. The city isn’t what it used to be. Advertisements

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Waipio, Hawaii

The air is hot and sticks to the rusting trucks in the underbrush. Sticks to the banana leaves on the sound of distant water. Sticks to the smell of blossoms. I taste the hot air on my humid breath and fall into my footsteps, hoping I’m not full of it. 

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Magor, Wales

Yesterday my great uncle pulled down his atlas./ Side by side, we studied its glossy pages./ We followed mountains and highways./ We were old and new earth, filtering the rain.

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