Dust and Arose

We drove through evergreens

That held the promise of Sunday,

Shady chapels with a channel of light

Car pointed in direction,

North,

and we left every other day in the dust.

It’s the rose part of day.

Dusty pink.

Warm filter.

Photographer’s wet dream.

And we laid our tent 

Out on a bed of pine needles,

Cigarette butts,

And shards of glass.

Lying next to you,

It was the best sleep I ever had.

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