It’s a good long walk from there
To here, under thick-black sky
Where the path weaves to and fro.
The sparrows sleep and blossoms
Close, like mouths enjoying quiet.
Two parallel lines in a nest
Of muted green. Searching eyes skyward
For the falling pieces of gold
To make a wish upon.
One hand this way, one
Heart that way. Silence
In that vacuum held
Its unshakeable grip of words.
The car will turn for the sun peaking
From its tree covered
Hide, and I return to mine.
