SLOBBER
The playful matter in the meadow is meaning
much : I arrive at dawn, watching the sun rise
from inside a metal bus. Me, that is. The sun
itself is in its natural place on this near-to-
longest-day of the year. Here I am again,
feeling like a Druid. The oak tree in my path
cuts the sun in two, splits the infinity of all
things. This new light is burning right through,
and I am wearing nothing but a shirt and the
light is loosening my buttons. Almost, I want
to be a God. Up in front, the bus driver is
smiling at the sky, saying, 'it's only you, oh
my, where is everyone today?' Just as I am,
witnessing something, trying to speak,
nodding assent to living.
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