A few random thoughts:
Title: Insomnia The clock is not hard to see in the dark. But, the numbers are much too small. Options: Warm milk. Watch some TV. Read a poetry book. Is it called insomnia when you are awake in the arms of another?
Title: Camp Fire How intoxicating a good camp fire is. It frees the imagination, energizes the soul. It inspires, relaxes, cooks. Does it matter how it was made? Gather a bunch of wood, stuff in a bunch of paper, douse with a bunch of fluid, apply match. Or Carefully construct with lint, small kindling, larger kindling, cause spark, nurture flame. Carefully add layers. Insure ventilation. Build upon success. To the child with the marshmallow stick, anticipating s'mores; To the teenagers holding hands, anticipating kisses; To the adults with smiles, anticipating life; Do the fires differ?
So, I was hiking in the Tucson foothills. Strong greens, bright rocks, hardy plants. In fact, the plants are armed; spikes, thorns, barbs. Hiking in shorts is not highly recommended. While still on the trail, I had to avoid contact from intruders. But that only encourages them. Further and further they encroached. As if they owned the world. But they don’t and when some line is crossed They get cut back, kicked back, stomped back. That has to hurt. Wouldn’t it be better if they just stopped at the edge?
It has been a number of years. I am just passing through. The sharp edges have softened. Items have been rearranged. It is the same, but similar. But it is no longer real. Memories, dreams, wishes blend Together. With tears, bricks are made And set. Hopefully a door was included in the plans. Hopefully moving forward is less painful Than moving back. Moving keeps the oxygen flowing.