early bow season, 2013. photo by billy coe.
(all saints day)
here we are having a couple of beers.
too windy to bow hunt & so we drink.
you don’t shut up & i’m trying to think:
if i’m not hunting, then why am i here?
i no longer love you but we’re still friends.
you want me to move back in & be your
woman, but that seems to me a huge bore.
you’re ok in small doses – it depends
what we’re doing & why. but today
is just another fucking waste again.
drinking instead of hunting is a shame.
hungover tomorrow – & then i’ll pay.
but – how beautiful the sunset tonight.
the clouds dark against the sun’s fading light.