The dog finishes her business

And I notice something

As I help her up the stairs

And into her blankets --

Beneath the stars is

An unexpected figure,

Stretching near an

Unfamiliar car:

I smile and laugh

And hug my nomadic son

And his merry band of

Bog men and fairies,

Organic farmers and students,

Camping gear, drum and Mata lovers --

Beating Rhythms, Beating Hearts

Beating every last toxic thought

And senseless notion

From every corner

Of mine!