gift

i will buy you a ticket.
come. relax. heal.
beeeeeeeeep.
that was the message, back in november,
from my dear friend, keno.

tomorrow, i fly to albequerque,
(without babychop and papabear)
detour to santa fe for groceries,
and then north, on the high road
to angel fire.

angel fire.
the place that heals me.
the clay-dirt and sky that makes
my heart pound hard
and brings clarity to what
is really important.

after the sun sinks into the magical sangre de cristo range,
the stars drip from the sky and the air is silent and dark.
their light sinks deep down and reveals la verdad
you never knew existed.

dear angel fire,
i am counting on you.