When I look into the future,
I hope to see
A row of collared white shirts, hanging neatly in the back window of the truck.
Sourdough biscuits that I’ll have finally mastered,
Dripping with honey.
Heavy on my thigh as we drive,
Throwing out mineral block as we go.
Slowly built into a set of reins during long winter nights,
Buttons all match up and swing with style.
An impromptu fishing trip that consists of you,
Laughing at me and not catching a thing.
A writing desk, be it the top of a cooler in camp or a wooden table,
Resplendent with my notebook and favorite pens,
To catch the words as they appear.
Tied to my saddle.
Backhand thrown consistently.
Little grey mare turning just fine in town.
Sunburnt hand clasped in strong hand in prayer before a meal.
Boots thankfully traded for slippers,
And one small whiskey before bed.
Come on, baby
I wanna jump in your Caddy and go on a trip around the moon.
xo xo Liz