Long grasses chuff
against the rough fabric of my pants.
I take off my hat;
my hands clasp its rim like two motionless moons.
I am looking out into cavernous space at the stars.
I lower my eyes:
through the cathedral hollows
amidst the row of pines at the field’s edge
I observe the manicured lawn of a golf course;
beyond - housing projects swell abruptly,
intensely square mushrooms whose mycelia feed upon
the corruption of a dying wilderness.
I look back up -
the night is a cavity within me.
John and Moses had God on their side.
I turn, sluggishly,
and walk back into the house
wipe my feet at the back door
go into the kitchen, and empty a can of beer.