Why do i move toward my future
with such lemming instinct resignation...

The larkspur serenity
of cicada evenings...

Wax and incense waft on window breeze
candle flame flickers shadows...

And that was the day
of the eclipse...

Wait,
what was that...

Embracing the rarity of sleep
like a welcome death...

Sitting on the floor
humid air lazy and still...

It was the dawn of another summer,
I sat on the porch...

I. the fade
the wind is a fast car to nowhere...

The trees along the river's edge
look like wading women...

Underneath the summer spice sun,
beneath cocrete glacier clouds...

My mind seeks
to set the words on fire...