in thursday wanting. in desiring of.
of deep breaths and of weary mornings. of steep cliffs and lungs tight pulling.
the call of the canyon below me. of divided seconds.
of diving under ruckus waves, under the tow.
when I want to live way out there. on the edge of the quiet.
on the edge between the mountains and the sea.
on the edge of wanting. of all things civilized.
taking my cardboard house pasted with all my imagined belongings,
folded into my pack. then treading out there ever so hushed,
as not to disturb the chatter of rooks, the foraging deer.
these wantings wake me up, crushed coffee bean dreams.
a hot mug of them as i watch the harvest moon say g'night,
passing by the hurried dawn that peeks over trees.
hope you have some thursday wanting too. xxoo