Warm Holiday

Cold pills, neglected bills, cough drops, and James Bond thrills sat on a night stand.

That’s what I found when I came back.


Imagine my day; a car load of family and words; letter games the whole way, a lot to say.

From: La Crescent to Whittier-South, now, guests in my house.

Thanksgiving Night: Small travel and a conversation at an organic orchard (Literally, Hoch Orchard); 10 foot fence, nothing held back-transparent intent-now, I am thinking of you.


If you come up we won’t bone, just thought you should know.

_That’s what she said.

So I know.

I replied with the same message, and told her I thought she should know.


The wind blew through the white plastic structure, she walked the long gravel driveway, as she came near I could see the orangish-red ember of her cigarette appear.

Dark bluffs rose in the foreground.

Two shadowy houses sat in the distant, an outdoor fluorescent light blanketed the nearest sides.

I told her she couldn’t bring the smoke inside my mother’s ride.


We waited in the gale for her leaves to turn to ash, then we drove back.

She sat as I drove slow, we laughed.


Hours passed.


Lock the gate when you leave, abandon me, avoid the electricity.


Drive the dark windy dirt road home.


All alone; while staring into that rearview, listening to my soul.


Sometimes it hurts to be clever.

Remember, I never feel bad about anything ever.


My mom beat me in the word game, we all laughed together.

I wish we could drive back from a family holiday like that forever.





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