beyond the terribly bright and curious tender
we know what little and much the grass knows
gods in charge of holy nothing but to keep
reaching toward allspace
salt meadow skin of the ghost wave
rising
keep the bandwidth of our chatter slow
everslow the rain falling in its perceived time
there are more ways to listen than weep
slow the cricket nocturne, a human lifespan
hear our voices hymn back
angels in the field
clock clock
what have we come for
