First cricket sings a promise we’ll survive.
The hike into the canyon, climb to summit
on a cool, bright day, the light through waves,
shadows printing leaves on creek sand,
all the years I’ve welcomed freedom,
the buoyancy of time. Drunkenness
to hold it in. Desperate lust for what
is lost by seeking love, the consequence
of child delivering the world again,
twilight deepening above the trees, escape,
the moment that the screen lights up,
fireworks rip color through the night.