facing down the bitter road 

long and dark evenings 

illuminated plastic stringed lights 

on barbed wire fences 

stretch out toward a bookshelf 

of purples yellows reds 

hybrid—an artist’s canvas 

 
late evening fields 

turning the grass  

into blackened carpets 

stained a dull brown 

the trees recline 

psst psst psst  

psst psst psst 

the kyrie of crickets  

begin to sing 

to cry 

yeow yeow yeow 

the pussens 

their caterwauling 

passed out in the alleys 

 
then still 

the wind blows 

a lonely giant 

in crowded fields cry out 

cold dead horizons 

carry a heavy burden. 

the bane of don quixote 

whilst cursing the wind 

smelling of rusted metal 

at night the stars illuminate 

piercing the abysmal darkness 

and the children return home