Solidities love to give their spiel on

distance, as anthill multitudes are

dispersed by feet.

To the tune of whole houses jostling

around unissued shadows, armed with

soundless chimes.

Worked up to spit's private tiffs pelting

pavement, tracked onto the vacuum

tracks of living room carpets.

While a little boy getting called inside,

holds up a glass jar to a star.

Sighing hand-swipes of evening reads

drifting off into the context & tone of

certain conversations (the day's).

Space airing out its fringless purity,

clanks with clanking plates--runs with

running water.

Suddenly there's a judicious ring that

dissolves just as it's accepted.