the air that often takes me by surprise
at 3 o'clock
the one long after
the sunset dies
just myself and the orbs
the cigarette smoke
that takes the life of the winds
and says there is never any such still as we think
a constant stream, whoosh
off beyond sight
the travelers late on the highway in night
and there ain't no way to know nothin'
out here on alone
even He must got but one eye upon me
if I ever 'ere go on belonging