Days like this, the lazy Texas wind
thrills me to the core. A reunion with a long-time friend.
And the changes along the stretch between look smaller. The passing
of time forgets a few of its trespasses. Mostly this happens in the Spring,
when the air is heavily pregnant
with the scent of honey-suckle and weed. The things taken for granted
are easier to remember when things are looking up.
I sip on a beer and lean against my truck
for a moment, letting the sunlight bathe my face untill I'm clean again.