in good condition

like a pearl in slippery hands, every sweet memory i grasp slips away with this sea of bitterness inside me. pumping steadily through me is a constant reminder of what we lost. i hate it. this isn't me. it is resentment guiding my every breath, watching carefully over me as i try to struggle free. i'm sure it will fade. its current will die down and my gems will once again be secure.

then i'll head west.

i'll climb up that shapely rock in Utah where we watched the sun set behind the snow capped mountains.
or i'll dig through the leaves at the base of those two redwood trees where I napped for hours
i'll scoot to the edge of that isolated canyon where the rattlers never rest.
maybe i'll put on harvest and search through the canadian flatlands.
or i'll stare up to those mountain dwelling glaciers that disappear in the winter's fog.
i'll sift my way though that rain forest, which keeps those pacific waters company.
i'll even check that misty cow pasture in the rolling hills of Idaho

then i'll remember to head south again to new mexico. i'll drive down that bumpy dirt road in those hidden mountains. i'll travel past that busted up old van, and i'll make way down our car made path where those bright white trees meet the pine.
there my heart will be. just as i left it.
sitting by the campfire.