Just sitting here chasing words across the Internet like damn dust that won't settle.

I watch Fiona Apple toss a nod to John Lennon as she sings Across The Universe …Jai guru de va om.

A strange video. She sits in a corner as men ransack the candy shop. Glass canisters of jelly beans burst like shotgun scatter, spraying the floor with wild cherry and grape. She stands. Couches fly and baseball bats smash a path through the displays. Nothing's gonna change her world. Nothing's gonna change her world…Jai guru de va om.

Tonight, I worry worry worry worry.

Under tree limbs and across uneven ground we climb to the old stacked stone foundation. Dogs skitter across moss covered ledge. I look at the old wooden beams nearly sunken back into the soil and I wonder who slept in the heavy rusted bed frame now mingled and mostly hidden in low growing blueberry shrubs. Who was here? No notes on the wall. No messages scratched on the furniture. No way to ask the trees who passed this way.

Who inhabited this hard to reach, but perfectly placed cottage? For those of you walking through the woods long after any well traveled trails have ended, imagine topping a slope to find the footprint of a home in your path.