Night sky the color of

a coyote's howl 

Winter's almost over, 

Suliko

I sat under the tree

watched us all 

pick things from possibilities 

Suddenly I hugged onto

like it was a dream 

my state of survival

And gave it back

erasing all memory

Decades pass and I wake up

feeling no aches, no pain

It's a happy knowing

losing doesn't real up

for it's in me: love

Remember the 1500s when archaeology was a super popular hobby? And the ancient skeletons were thought to be poor William who must have died in a cave from influenza, because who else? And why not make him into fertilizer now. The world was young and the time was steady. I miss those days for their romantic excitement about no one being right about anything, unknowingly.

February full moon

Somewhere the plums

are blooming