Thursday, April 21, 2016

Midnight

the fog infringes on my space
the full, green carpet of my outdoor living room
the light overhead becomes particles
as it is absorbed in the air’s warm mist
the blue spruces are devoured, invisible
shadows of the sheds are like spatter-paint
lying on the ground, unsafe to stand there
muffled cricket songs reach my ears
no cars are passing by at this hour
I don’t know where I will rest tonight
but for the moment, the lawn swing is cozy


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