the size of this night an ocean in search of a shore— a mouth in search of a word it is not good to sit here alone too long it never did rain but clouds obscure the moon it should be nearly full asymptotic arriving— two owls call back and forth in the forest out back nearly pitch black— sound establishes the distance
too hot to sleep get a glass of water moonlight fills the bathtub what dreams come are just below the surface unsolvable equations the subconscious creates works at and works at the open eye of the window still air static as a tomb all that moves is birdsong dawn robins with their leitmotifs their circular logic
There is a stretch of road that often for a moment seems incongruent utterly unfamiliar my car passing through some existential plane— where am I? have I gone the wrong way? the lanes go on eternally in the dark arcade the trees the same soft suggestions by the roadside only the exit signs hard proof of place glowing in the headlights delimiting space
rabbit at the yard edge still as stone fading into dusk awaiting something or outwaiting it— I wasn’t prepared for the silence here awaking suddenly to the crack of wood under duress holding my breath listening as the whole forest surged around me— there is no such thing as empty space I know this by how night swallows this house the knock-kneed pines and the flooded fields beyond them the very earth falling away the […]
these days are mostly dark a trick of latitude headlights, brakelights strung like beads throughout the hills— everything beyond them the arras of night even knowing well the trees, the park even seeing them aglow in the low strange sunset not one hour ago I am now uncertain the cars pass and pass by like electrons in their tracks there are no stars there is no sky just an aperture thrown open an expectant thing […]
I watched the bear in the meadow and felt no fear a vignette at sunset not really a trait a descent tomorrow and already the night is rough against my skin animal misgivings lumbering in the tall grass the wretched unease of an eve
They cancelled the fireworks but no one knew the countdown proceeded and we arrived at a precipice with misplaced anticipation– a bewildered pause the cork stuck the breath retained who knew time could slip away unnoticed even as we marked it a profound underestimation our breath dissipating into the newly christened night
Oh how I love the city at night– the lights, the lights the quietest signs of life sharp against the cold air from a distance the interstate mistranslated, say a river, or a winter wind or one unending exhalation
worse than a promise unkept is one not made only implied no lie technically it rained the evening hours slumped into night the difference between dusk and dark said and meant is gray and quiet
Moody rain all along Lake Crescent, a fresh wreck the flares like embers– last night we kept the fire going until its bitter end coaxing and coaxing a few more flames until the night consumed the beach it is immense the lowest tide the endless starless sky no clear line of demarcation just soft gray nothingness and the faintest clouds of breath to prove our existence
OPTIONAL POETRY 