big town blues (viii) — burning

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