hiking in the western foothills
windblown and grizzled
i saw a squirrel
and a whiskey jack
and a patch of fur shed carelessly in the snow
and a dog who was actually a wolf
clear blue eyes reflecting the void of watchful tranquility
and on the way back home
a black muscle car approached me
all polished and shiny and trimmed with glittering chrome
air intake towering over the hood
and i lusted after the raw purr of it
and it must have sensed my desire
for it followed me
matching all my random, twisty turns back to yellow city
never passing
and when at last it drew up beside me
i glanced at the driver
and he was wearing a black suit
white collar
black tie
mirrored sunglasses staring right back at me
and i gasped up at the firmament
as the spacecraft phased in
a big carrier/mother/ship
a couple of classic rounders with a bump in the middle
frozen in the sky
surely they were clouds
my gaze snapped back to the agent on my left
but he was gone, gone
shaken now
muttering idly past some random strip mall
and the synchronicity rider spoke to me
of the astral plaza
and stonegate pub
where everyone was a wizard or a witch
shooting pool, ignoring tv, knitting
conversations running contrary to their lips
and i was four shades of shattered
opted for personality insertion
and ordered a pint of beer
kokanee gold