big town blues (viii)

look across landscape
there’s crumbling
edges of hills
edges of sky
texture in vision

birds fly
adults task intent
teenage dare over crumble
you see trees move
i think that’s it
they pull the air apart

look all directions
all distance
there’s crumbling
even the glorious moon
children point laugh
and parents

you know if i rest
i’ll look the distance
the shape the texture
it will invite me
find its portrait
it will be solid

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