It’s all prairie.
Windswept and gusting.
Trusting angels and tom tom
and guides.
Smooth warm skin.
Fire hands.
I didn’t fall at all in that Reiki-filled house.
No pain on waking either.
Warmth
and light
and painted easter eggs
eggs painted by tow-headed girls.
One on my lap
the other seated left.
They love me.
I love them.
Dry cheerios eaten finger-to-mouth by the blond boy.
Amazing how half asleep he can suck a bottle down,
and give a coy askance look that’s full of a secret joke
that only he knows....

I love him too
and his mom
who looks especially beautiful
wearing an old unrolled
red hat
and quilted winter jacket
on a cold winter morn waiting with the girls and the boy
for the morning bus
and exhaling vapor
in front of a frigid sun...

I watched all their shadows graze the Highway
from the window above the kitchen sink.