I bought two hammocks today.
Getting ready to howl at the moon,
Getting ready to stare at the sea and stars.
In our new / old root of a house!

The sky is so bright and big.
We are up on a hill,
We are slipping down, into a giant valley.
We are surrounded with raw, crusty, old mountains.

One mountain is shaped like a sleeping Elephant.
Villagers call it: The Sleeping Elephant,
It has an eye and a head and body,
It has no legs or feet.
A giant nose trunks down to the sea.

The valley dips down.
It levels off into a beach-dressed cove,
A massive rock-island, towers out of the sea.
Shaped liked a rock-tipped, tribal spear.

I believe in an age of ice.
Spain is a carved example,
Ripped and beaten, water-worn mountains.
Dead craters, where once mighty waters rushed.

The sea opens the skies.
Draped lights across a theatre backdrop,
We are up on hill.
We are burning a fire, slow and low.

We are getting ready to howl at the moon.

I bought two hammocks today.