There was a friendship
initiated
last evening

(under the snow capped mountains
by the green fields
with an upstart
creek of spring water
running through it)

Between a white horse and I
she easily came over
to the fence
to greet me
where we each

Shyly stood a little
afraid of the other but
eager to begin

What dreams did
we break
between
us

Sacred places
untouched
(white spaces
of protracted
ecstasy)

We lost the mysteries
somewhere on our mountain
destinies

Traveled paths of lifetimes
in regression
retrograde stumbling

(the tides worked in reverse
and the moon came up in daytime
blinded by nighttime sunlight
we fumbled our
way to enlightenment

only to make golden statues
of ourselves

She turned a white towel Purple

Beauty without
ego

Freedom without
pain

Take it Montana
easy

Sometimes I can
stay out of my own
poetry and

let her be a
goddess dancing
undisturbed

She moves like a poem
and a song and
a woman on
her own

she's got rainbow hair
and a magic mind

weaves walking down
the street into a
dance

(the image of us walking down
the street last night weaves itself
into a dance in my mind
where we saw our spirit animals
and fine works of glass and
dresses of soft string and lace
from silent windows)

I never understood
Bukowski

Until I saw the
poem

written
on her arm

Almost untrue
Magic
Fire

Hot enough
to write poetry
about

Dangerous
enough to be
afraid
of

Lonely dreamchasers
scattered wolfpack
(bring back the hard times
the rock times of easter-drive

Just the straight electric tribe
void of technology we hammered
v-8 engines over the merciless
highways)