out here

under the wet light of this floating moon

I abide

nowhere.

eagles sleep in their nests,

snakes collide.

and to this thin veneer of grass

my deck chair, my paddock chair,

will succumb to the black mud

of also ruined sneakers.

all the cities of the world have grinded to a halt.

out here

mist
is forming by the oak tree,

roads are severed.