Home for a week

Wednesday Night

Can't imagine that I'll eat much tonight.
Two beer down,
rain on the inside.
The barrel heater's comfort
dries the mildew.

Thursday morning

I only have enough food for one man
and this way I can laze around
nakedly proud
and write poetry
in the dim light of rainy September morning
while the clock
moves slow in
angst perpetual motion.
My hands smell of
cabin mildew
as drops of water land on the floor
missing the catch bucket.

There is everything to do
with installing the new metal roof
yet with the rain and clouds
all I wish to achieve is to
sip on tea
red write and smoke a little.
The second half of September is mine.

I thought the seat would be dry
of which it was not of course.
So I wipe the seat dry
and toss the tissue into the abyss
drop my pants to the top of
my rubber boots
and get ridiculed by a local squirrel.

Thursday night

Five beer in total
Rain till 10:50
started work around 10:00
fabricated rafter ends
7 in total
more rafters than beer in two nights.

Walked lightly to the river
to the bridge
to the night captivating
mountains and trees
before the moon
and
predeceased by the sun
and float home
with nothing to loose

Moths and flies
knock on the door window
wanting the inner light
of the cabin.
The music has faded at 8:12 on the second night.
The moth finds his way in to dance
around the lantern
and burn it's legs off
on the hot glass.
Once is not enough
he's a true addict
flying and burning
and repeating the sequence.
And I wish Jerry was here
there would be no lack of music.
and he would get a kick out of this moth.