leaving base camp

base camp

cool dead quiet before dawn

jumps into packs tied down

sheets spikes knots

and clothes

a thousand eggs for breakfast

a hundred cups tapped off 

the coffee urn

radios full of feedback 

my love my love the dreamers 


above the swirling winds 

howl around a hidden




the roads still glistening with dew they

carved a 180 @ the 5432 

café. a pour over black no creamer

for the dreamer