Down a hilled road, overlooking
The high lift sunlit watered land

The rest moves and I stay

The windows are softly jarring
Bathed in leaks of this wine dusk
Behind graying street trees
Speaking tired and wisely
As I walk home.

The sounds unwrap inside
Out of darkness. A drone,
Artificial creation, a family
Of starving happy insects,
My feet placed carefully
On these birds’ earth.

The rest moves

And suddenly I have fallen into
Something of your eyes again
Walking home, knowing death again
Spinning in its nauseating peace
There and not. Holding only
What is bearable in my lungs
Of the view, the other homes, so far
Under the same light.

You have gripped even my dusk.
No, it has been my dusk
Wanting to grip you.
For I have always stayed here

You have always moved

I will enjoy listening
To the sound of
Starving happy insects tonight.