Skin pulled taut over the frame of a hand
baked, punctured, bumpy from irritation
silver ring turned black from hours of sweat.
The sun overhead boiling a pot of atmosphere
droplets of humidity excited by the heat
singe skin on contact.
Temporary home
with the cushioned bench by the window
facing a cemetery.
Tomorrow I head out for Kansas. It should be an easier park since there are only eight transects to do and they supposedly mowed and burned much of the area. We're staying in the housing at Fort Larned since they have the facilities and we're working for the government. However, it's likely the case that there won't be any internet to connect with; that and the rooming quarters are shared, so there is reason to hurry along. The first full day there is a day off, finally, but I've been told there isn't much to do there. I like sitting outside, looking at every little thing and nothing at the same time, anyway.
I need to write and send more postcards but it's hard to find the energy and I feel like I'm not deep enough into this living on the road to have anything particular to say about it.
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