I wanted to hide in the shadows of life, in the limits of the city, under the walnuts, the pecans, the sweetgums, and I didn’t want to tell you the sun’s gone dim the sky’s turned black

that the screen I hold

is untouched as an instruction discarded into a drawer, is hands to another’s face that say

but listen to me

bright, austere and focused on a bathtub filled with water for cattle, my earbuds a trailer of parts to which I sip the everyday distant

I gulp

until my earbuds blossom

but can you hear me?

I fear I will regret these shadows someday and wonder where the years went, wonder at a life lived like a processing wheel that spins, eating each turn onto itself

but where are the years already going?

The idle video is at least something, and there is a face there even if half-expressed and I am thankful for that

but it is forbearing

that this dark matter of paperwork and fees increasingly smells like a breaker burning out

and here I am being asked, in the safe convenience of a meeting being recorded, if an ending really is another beginning?

I look outside and I see the garden spider building its web and that it is only trying to live, undisturbed, in the window,

and I see its instructional life finding purpose and its task to survive

is what it is

and this status processing for the purpose of love and the instructions on how to live

are what they are

and life goes on as an ending and a beginning