Unasked, the sun
came through the glass,
splitting the room. Each branch
bifurcated the broken fence—
which could stop at nothing.
By early afternoon,
I can’t get my head around anything.
The birds must be dying of thirst—
though at least they keep quiet.
There must be a limit to this.
I was struck by insufficient things—
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you—
suffice to say I left most of what remained
in the scattered hands of a neighbor and god
knows what he did. Though his wife
left some time back, taking
most of everyone else.
It falls to me to
post the upshot of what
never was. It was ample,
owing more to the spoor
that leaked through the woods
behind.
I followed, stood ready to find
whatever was.
Much to what I first believed
to be relief—
the trail forked—
later proved either way was incorrect,
and was left uncollected at an intersection
of flowering weeds.
I can’t completely recall
but the sun, at some point, fell.
Though we know it never went anywhere.
The evening wind picked up, an
oceanic swell through the skittering, serrated leaves,
laying waste to the
last of the summer trees.
