And the dark is full. One green, gold
Streetlight. The dog somewhere outside across the street
Gives a conversational bark satisfied he is outside home.
Insects commiserate with each other over tales
We will never know. A couple of voices
Pass by in quiet repose.
Cars languidly slide by receding
Into the impermanence of silence briefly held.
Sprinklers whisper a verse
I long to remember.
Ragged choruses dance in the dew.
Hills climb toward clouds.
We close our eyes to see what is not.
Not that the parallel life
Is stillness fulfilled, glinting
Charm or travesty evaded, no
All the cleansing is gathering fate
To its breast, marching to drums
We only hear as they grow near.