The blue on blue on blue meets and joins seamlessly. Bold to wedge an I between two palms softly pressing skin on skin. Participation as an active effort is futile in unfolding serenity. It is a most passive display, requesting only pure and raw presence. A foreign visitor devotedly dipping his brow low into limitless awe. Not contesting breath in against breath out, but in equal attendance welcoming both as one.

Back on the rim of Fishriver Canyon. Same ageless blue. Shirt strewn on the dusty surface of a bluff. Imprint of devestating human news, a quiet shadow removed, trickling into the river far below, breaking against the tide – left behind like socks in a pile. Reheated emotion satiated in envy and spite now stripped off, disarmed. The distance carries nearer a vibrant homecoming. The remaining garment wears heavy, sleeves over thighs drop to earth, layer after layer shed. There, naked and exposed , feet lightly moving, gently smiling, effortlessly extending the spread of silver wings. Sizzling voice only a hum out at sea. Take off off off, flap sweet and long an outstreched breath in silent recognition. Maybe a parting, though much sooner a trusted arrival.