I remember Jasper
how we drove up
in that bolt bucket
drank grape soda
from the dime store
listening to Dylan

How the mountains
echoed our loneliness
the answers we sought
turning us inside out –
I dream of it still.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson
Art mine – an early attempt at watercolour)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

30 thoughts on “Jasper

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