army canteens filled and swinging
lichen waiting for the
sweet caress of pudgy 
hands pulling up higher
we are at home among
the scraggly blueberry bushes
we are grappling
with the patriarch's latest
failed business venture 
(another pyramid scheme)
we cast ourselves
as castaways
& thus directors of our own destinies
it can be precarious to find your footing
in a world that moves without you
that moves on without you
from the summit
the beach dwellers look like beetles
with their gem tone bathing suits
and us, up here,
we're pulling all the strings
in our mind's eye