I looked along the wrinkles in my couch, looking for a random blink of karma. A tiny warp in the woof of time. Oh yes, here's one, and it’s a beauty.I'm weaving away at a plain wool blanket, horse outside, warm piles left to show the way for the summer grass. Oh that’s too far off. I had a saddle though, it was western style, squeaky and smelling of old leather. Aspens along the ridge.
Oh that leather smell!
Pines in the background, sounds of the horses chomping up the yellow grass, rough mane, rough hair, rough feel of western Levis. Old boots with dusty creases, red fire in the wildflowers. White, white clouds along the ridge. Sun somewhere shining.
Now there’s a wrinkle for you.