This hill spoke to me
Even when I didn't know it existed.
It found me at the best time.
Sometimes, I get lost.
Find a place in my own backyard
that did not exist before.
That's where this spot found me.
On a summer afternoon, just around dusk,
me, with my work work jeans on, and grease stains to cover the sweat stains
that percolated up through that bright tiki shirt.
I picked her up, it was about a quarter till nine...
We hadn't spoken in days, but she didn't seem to mind.
I drove the nissan through the back roads, towards no where
When I rolled up that hill, I just had to stop.
"This is it." I said "What is?" she asked.
"This is the spot. My place of business."
I slammed to car door and jumped on the hood.
It was perfect.
I have always longed for this,
this complete oneness with the real world.
Like if a coyote howled in the distance,
I wouldn't automatically sense danger.
This place, where I melt into the engine and watch
as the sun goes to sleep, and the farmland
is retaken by its natural, bestial presence.
She sat on the hood next to me and shrugged.
Time stopped. We stayed for hours.