Lone Pine Road

We lived outside of town — up the mountain — beside the Spadra River — once, we covered ourselves with blankets — we counted the meteors we saw — those we thought we saw — we heard the water — rustling in the brush — we drew closer — the rustling between us — we drew closer again — we reminded each other that it’d been a while — since feeling anything — but that maybe now it was time 

Devil’s Den

We wandered the riverbank — the stone stacks — we made our own — at sunset we went with a park interpreter — who talked about the resident owls — Barred Owls, Great Horned Owls — who demonstrated the calls — Who cooks for you, who cooks for you all? — no owls then but later they filled the park — Thanksgiving — beside each other in the tent — told ourselves how alive we felt — and wanted to feel

Hot Springs

We toured an old bathhouse — visitors had come for the healing waters, mercury baths — we’d come for deep tissue massages, thermal pools — we drank beer — we ate pizza in a brewery once a bathhouse — street light in the condensation — we walked back through town to our room — we talked about our intentions for the new year — what to plant in the spring — how much more there was