Static

I like radio static and sleeping by rivers in a tent, with wood smoke as my blanket and campfire glow as my pillow. I like sleep-falling to the sound of sunsets and sparrows after paddling for many winding miles through deeply tinted reflection. I like fishing line and spider-webs; how the two collide- are one and the same- when I dream under glass sky and lace clouds. I like waking to the smell of coffee, clovers, and wet grass; my senses heightened, and a river drowning out the gentle static of an A.M. radio.