Purse notebook December 28th, 2016

From the little window a hill, gray as a pig. A little tree, as distinct as a tooth in my mouth. As lined and distinct as a tooth. Later, I stand beside the road and long wood gate: I see and study a paddled cactus. Nibbed hide like ostrich skin.

The man has gone as far as he can in the out door shopping mall. My lungs stand out at the end of my cropped jacket, big white rocks. I study sights. A sage tree’s trunk strapped up with pine-green Christmas wires. The man comes back to this end again.