Wild Heart

I still think about her.

That hateful heat, that misfit crew, stuck in the deep woods together.

A shitty summer contract, a rundown cabin with bunks for four, so much time waiting to wait.

The way she laughed when something inevitably broke.

The way she smiled when she invariably got something working again.

Sunsets wrapped in skunk weed and campfire and river chilled beers.

The way she sang Stevie Nicks songs in the shower.

How she looked when she knew she'd misjudged me.

I still think about her...