the birds willing to announce our arrival

how glorious the late spring time sun has come. and will turn these pale arms pink. walking over scrub hills with dan, in his bare-feet, talking about bathroom politics and the girls we know. failing miserably at disc golf, having never tried before, giving up and walking along tree lined paths. heading back towards another place we have never really known.

in the distance great limestone towers, cut out against the sky like some industrial complex. could be doing unnerving experiments inside that place. but we live there, sleep on uncomfortable cracker thin mattresses, supplied by the place we send our envelopes full of torn five dollar bills. you said it reminds you of home, coming down geddes and seeing the castle of a hospital, appearing at the end of a tunnel of trees. everything a little more gray through these plastic sunglasses.

i don’t get God, but i do sense sunlight. a warm and softly sung song.