A man climbs to stand in
a stratospheric wind.
Another scuba-dives through
subterranean streams.
The light at the crosswalk
flashes “Don’t Start”.
The world is flat.
Journeys to the East
yet returning from the West
only prove this.
The light at the crosswalk
flashes “Don’t Start”.
Striving cannot turn a
son into a friend, or
another into a mother.
The light at the crosswalk
flashes “Don’t Start”.
But,
that pond
water striders
pulsing gently
making rain
that day
rain on hot road
smelling like bread
baking.