chasing foxes

Speeding to Wimberly
Kicking up dust and dirt

They call this nowhere
They call us

Here
Your vision condenses
And comes into focus

Here
The windswept rock
Was formed
By a river
Before I knew the wor(l)d

A swallows dive, accented by my whisper
How foolish
Always the last to learn

Approaching me with stern judgement
Rushes the water
Passing Gideon

I can feel you,
Sliding into the river
Soft and suppl(iant)

Proof:
This took billions of years

Proof:
I recognize my wretchedness
Next to you

russ hamer (Ventura, CA, 1987)