Butterfield and the Black Range

Gold Gulch and a juniper fire.

The way the mountains and trees were was beyond us.

To realize we were not dreaming.

Like crashing a wave, she said.

Dark Mountain Road

The young man who called me Panther died last night. I'll miss you Ferni.

I picture myself telling you there isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel bad for what I did. I can’t say that with a clear conscious but I do feel pain. I bury it on the worst days only to find it coming to the surface.