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
