From Ride Backwards on Dragon, published by Leaf Press in 27 and shortlisted for the Gerald Lampert Memorial Award in 28.

When the winds came, we lashed ourselves to fir trees because we knew what they were and where they stood. When the waters rose, we packed sandbags faster than jack rabbits to save the bankrupt farm. When the thundering maw of canyon fire clawed the flesh off our bones, we encased our charred skeletons in asbestos coffins with plexiglas lids so we wouldn’t miss anything. We wanted it all. Kept all we could. We’re still waiting for that one transcendent moment, waiting for you to show us the magic, the secret, the reason for hanging on.