THIS MYLAR BALLOON
The moon hangs suspended over long rows of
crops, and the grass is very green this year. No
more than once does anything need coaxing. It's
nice to see a barn in the moonlight. I'm walking
a five-mile path - covered with fossil-stones and
little rocks - where once the natives wrestled through.
The boughs of the trees above me twist; turning in
a decibel of light. I can hear the world at hum and
it is night : all the distant stars are in agreement.