in desert dust stuck to sweaty skin after collapsing at the summit and the beautiful bleached hard work bruises earned in between
teetering thin edges of oil smears from broken car door frames or soaked into callouses from late night headlamp lit fixes
carved in mountain side rock slides that crinkle like poetry lines
and again while uncovering the soft crumbles of earth that curve the creek i knew as a kid ones full of the same unchartedness only a childhood holds
in the marigold garden beds on my morning walk the kind you want to grow into
but most certainly amid the pools of haphazard spills thundered from turbulence hoarding around a hot coffee and cream on the flight home
