I'm in the middle of a desert waiting for the green to grow. I'd rather be somewhere on the west coast of Canada with the fog about to come in. When I close my eyes, I can see myself on an old, second-hand boat in desperate need of repair and a fresh paint job. The fog will be in soon, but I stay just a little longer trying to catch the one that's gotten away... even before it's caught. I feel the rhythm of the waves. The up and down. An ear-worm can't get out of my head, "...show me the way to go home...", and dances to the motion. Sometimes, I'd rather be anywhere other than where I am. I even wonder, if I were a fish, would I take the bait just to see what's on the other side.
a desert flower
in the mist