Hitchin' a ride....

I believe in Peace and Love...
Everything in between is just a roadtrip....

I would have sent postcards.
I swear.
But I didn't take stamps, and
after a while,
I was sure if I just whispered to the wind....
scribbled breadcrumbs on lonely dirt roads,
left love beads in unexpected places....

You'd know....


It feels good to be home again...

To unpack my imagination
and toss it wildly on the floor,
next to crumpled blue jeans and empty cigarette packs.
To wake up to it the next morning....

Yeah, It feels good to be home again....

Let the Peace and Love begin....

The Crying Moon

"Watch your step" he bellowed as I threw one clutsy foot out of the truck door...the second fringed moccasin hit the parking lot floor before I could quip over my shoulder "I know"....

Of course he knew I wouldn't remember to be careful...
couldn't,
it's not in my nature....
And before landing at our last stop,
I parachuted out the door
and landed in a pile of pick up sticks on the gravel driveway.

He cringed. I laughed. And we called it a night.

In the morning, black and blue, and hobbling yet again, I remembered falling in slow motion... the click clack of the door opening, the billowing waves of wind as my ruffled and crumpled skirt sailed behind me, the smile creeping up fast, frozen laughter captured in polaroid color, right before I hit the ground.

In the morning I remembered,
that sometimes,
I just like to fall....

Face first into the moment.
Kiss the gravel goodnight.
Take chances.

And sometimes,
I skin my knees.

It was a crying moon,
And I could have cried,
but it wasn't in my nature.....

I needed to save that for a day I was steady on my feet....