on the beach at steamboat rock thinking
too deep of the stars
& lake & columbia
flowing below all
her strength extra hot
today we forget
again the coldest
part of winter
forget when painting
for people who have
never been & all
the things loved
most are painted in
a search & find between
letters obvious between
escarpments between blue
blue blue skies w/red
sunsets & dry desert
grounds & storms thought
can be imagined
from miles away
in the lake
how old are
stars
& do you
think
they will remember
us a spark when
we are swirled
up stars
too
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