the conversation seemed as long as the fires though I wanted more. she said, I think we lost everything but we still don't even know, the communication, understandably, is the pits. and I felt I fell a little further for her and her family. I don't think I know anyones thats packed up, husband, kid, and self and split in 5 minutes time after days worth of curiosity. 30 years of journals, all of my art, all of the tapestries, linens and homemade toys for my child... "maybe they're safe, you never know" again she squeezed.
I, parked in an uphill fashion, staring into the trees so familiar to her Santa Cruz mountain home, close to where I lived twenty years prior and I was familiar, (maybe) gone with the wind. dust upon alba rd and left to sift. through muffled holdings of a sleeping baby, I caught the names of some streams, some gulches, some hills we had recently walked just this past July fourth. all places, I in wonder, lost track of through conversation and where it went.
my feet, bare, slide freely across the hardwood floor, and she, a two time evacuee, born without walls or a roof over her head is starting again, again. incomprehensible. Offered the everythings I have but with a laughing heart, she verbally shrugged a reminder that she's resourceful and has been from birth and said with a a tinge of accent still left over from the country of her first days on spaceship earth.
we must have really met in 2012 when she proposed
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