Increments

Halfway there, adventure knocks and she says: "let’s just go to New York"…as if Manhattan weren’t three hours farther away than the horse-pulled haunted hayride. I nod; we laugh aloud at time.

Reverse direction
as one and without question;
we’re of the same mind.

Halfway there, she plots a map for us to journey over Europe, switching into talk of shoulder season and cheap fares to Amsterdam. Within a week we’re booked to fly in May. Once there, we rent a car and buy a map and spin ourselves around.

Somewhere in Holland…
Carving love on park benches;
planning Vienna.

Halfway there, she sparks ideas for she alone which spread unhurriedly toward preparation. After obtaining a permit, she learns exactly everything she needs to know about the art. I dream that she says: let’s just go…

Sanctuary hill
beside the Buddhist temple
holds her final steps.

Halfway there, she pauses for a moment in her passage, hefting metal hand-to-hand. She speaks to oak trees, familiarizing herself with life devoid of future. Last of all are echoes of our travels, severed sharp by the report of a rifle.