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.






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