Monday, December 18, 2017


Try not to envision
the scene; try to

imagine the feeling.
It's vague,

but that
very vagueness

is what provides it
with solidity—

A small white
sun rises,

then it
falls quickly; birds fly

past, and are quickly swallowed
up by endless sky.

Below, people come
and people go.

Everything gets dirty—
some things

become filled;
others, used up. Still

others—are emptied.
While you stand off to the side,

reality processes,
is deliberately celebrated.

Before your eyes (slowly)
these lumbering filaments of history,

stripped of their
own rough mythologies,

are displayed,

are saluted—
are thus purified,

sorted, and

as they drive by—
into nature.