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kerry
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fell asleep in the sun on the neighbor's dock, no house just empty lot. pale wood digging into my cheek, camera by my face, i slept for nearly an hour and dreamed jetski dreams. the grinding squealing birdsongs woke me several times and, not knowing exactly where i was, i just lifted my head and still felt asleep, then lay back down again and was out.
we walked home so we could listen to Paul Simon and wash the taste of sleep from our mouths, having no sense of time or place.
made lists of things to do before we die...
publish at least a few books
fall in love and be loved back
extensive european travel
sleep in a rowboat
try mango
own a weimerainer
live in another country
and riding home through the beautiful south today, lush fields
boasting mountains over rundown cottages and cows oblivious to everything
my cartoonish phantasies getting me nowhere here, except deciding that one day if i ever have children i want to raise them someplace like that, someplace where the whole landscape glows just at dinnertime, delicate fuschia and red blossoms by the highway and soft drawls on porches,
the water was glass, just as cold, with pearly-speckled fish and we saw a circle of tiny leaves floating near the shore.
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030605
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