golden sunrays
awaken the ripe red
cloud dusk underbelly.
wisps of white
cirrus obliquely
illuminate
the lone bat
that circles and circles its own
silhouette
circles mourning
doves perched out on black
utility lines.
circles cabbage
palm leaves stroking darkness in
the breeze.
five years
I’ve wandered alone this road of
evening solitude.
past homes
lawn sprinklers and
flowering vines.
past fences
dogs barking and empty
front porches.
with one hand
I've waved hello to nothing and nothing
has changed!
--Glen Snyder
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