When I Think of Heaven

When I think of heaven I think it’ll look something like the summers long ago.

Before adulthood took us all. 

The mornings will be spent sipping hot black coffee on a dock watching the sunrise with mama, my mouth dry from the cigar smoke from the night before. Frying bacon and eggs on an old stove. Floating on a paddle board in the middle of the lake, Louis L’amour in hand, Roxi at the nose guiding us through the calm waters, the sun beating down on my skin. Nights spent swapping cigars with Tucker, laughing until our bellies ache. A couple bad games of pool, music around the fire. A small community of people who become like family. 

There will be horses, and fields of wildflowers and mountains with snow capped peaks. Pap pickin’ his guitar. 

It’ll be a Big Hole Valley summer, but without the mosquitoes. 

There’ll be kids runnin’ rambunctious, not a care run the world round em’. 

There my mind will flow wildly, creative without anything to stop it.

-Cassidy Holliday, springtime 2026