THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



Landing the Fall...

Later today I'll take fifteen minutes apart from my responsibilities. I'll lean against a short post with my elbow bent in, With my lips turned inward and pressed against my forearm...I promise to take notice of the dry weeds growing near my foot.

I used to hang my right arm out the passenger window of the car and navigate the wind with my flattened hand... Today I'll commit to closing an eye and point and trace the ridgline with my finger.
I'll memorize the saddles and peaks and spurs and draws and take them forever forward...

A gentleman approaches. We speak about an off-topic concern.

Later today earlier today will be a memory, a lesson learned.
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