drying out

hoping to convince at least one of my siblings to go to the cabin this weekend.

itching to take out the canoe, smell the leaves drying out, see the peacocks across the river.

the cabin in fall is what a cabin should be. (even though it is not fall yet, it will feel like it there). waking up early, seeing the mist roll off the river. drinking coffee out of blue enamel cups. wool socks on wood planks.

that's where i could be right now. in front of a fire by the river. moth eaten quilts, a seven and seven. looking at stars, listening for deer, lulled by the safety of our trees.