The Wild Gold Things

by | Dec 8, 2020 | CNF, Issue Eighteen

Can we stop evil better? Turn slag to days? With each fresh beginning, purpose falls flat against the wall of discovery. If only we knew how easily a life can go wrong or how far to push the love. If only we could fix it all.

These back roads are endless. Below a horizon, they snake and charm. Dusted weeds rise in anticipation of the cleansing rain, then shimmer against an insistent breeze. Darn weeds, anyway.

I’ve learned to crave the wild things, a duckling lurching into the road then back again, a pocket gopher a-rush and anxious, a fawn lingering in an early spring field. For each day is a fingerprint in time, a series of friction ridges or impressions which set it apart from the millions of others which have gone before. Each day embraces a story; we catch slices, a streak, that brash and loud. We play off a stunning sunset while sitting next to a lover or friend, and talk of ghosts and shooting stars at a winter’s campfire, all pieces of the whole.

The most interesting thing is the posturing of people as we talk to others. We all seem to do it, like to look good, wear a smile, and that’s okay, but oh isn’t it predictable, Clyde? And Carol still wears her little golden earrings in Season 7 of The Walking Dead. See? Keep grit in your hope. Keep it rough and ready.

Read more CNF | Issue Eighteen

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