A hot day full of problems.

The boards are fraying, the nails exposed.

The grass is wild and high.

I still see the world in pieces and parts.

We’re in denial, grounded as ever.

There are planes and rockets but none of those.

There is a God, but the God we want.

A hot day full of problems.

Evening coming on.

The fireflies are blinking on the hill.

The little creek is running.

The stars appear, pinprick after pinprick.

In this dewy spot, there is moving breath.

There is calm in the thighs and quiet in the mind.

There is the everything to which these belong.

Evening coming on.

Tell me about that early hour when you saw it all,

Life to life and place to place.

If I listen and understand,

Maybe I won’t complain

About another

Hot day

Full of problems.