Notebook Crackles: 10
Hazy evening... not a bit of glitter
from rattlesnake skin... and plenty of cloud-
shade to honor spring's first thunderstorm.
There is this wait... locked into thirst...
tall, deep-green lush grass where there isn't sagebrush.
Long back, you placed money on song... on poetry...
busted corral boards, barn wood, cracked fence posts,
roll-over-you outlaw horses... toward the only grace.