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
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