When time is set aside
for hardware and recipes
and difficulties arise
remembering why
you liked burning wood.
It’s no joke to swallow whole
days filled with hazy moths.

Want outshines split fence posts.

Walking perimeters concentrically
tallying stumbles along a path
kicking licked stones aside.
Nothing epic in a cooling pie.

Playing numbers eschewing letters
in games too painful
gaining trail dust with shuffling.
Alone is not better with large bites.
Perhaps that’s reason enough
meeting and parting
soaring hawks marking our time.