 |
| Waxing gibbous |
In a fallow field
in the owled dark
you'd never know
the world was sinking
weighted down
with people garbage guns
In a fallow field
in the owled dark
only the voices of clouds
dripping moonlight
only the engines of moths
staggering south
In a fallow field
in the owled dark
everything in silhouette
indistinct unforeseen
everything poorly illuminated
what he liked about the night
Not people
in the owled dark
you'd never know.
