the quiet resignation of the radio
behind me. widowed, static, alone.
the imprint of a farewell left on the
back porch.
you remember how once, the doors opened for you,
before the orchards were forgotten
and the cities were left to die.

soft moans from a shrouded choir.
from the earth's chest, a rise and fall.
balanced on the edge of the hour,
a moonbird spiraling amidst endless drift.
husks of afternoon, scattered amongst golden fields.
leviathans rise above the tossed ground.
quiet in their sleep.