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Gravel
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Time hurries on I feel my body
Pressing the gravel beneath
My back engulfing the small,
Cool stones packed in the dust,
Dirt, and errant dandelions
As I lie on my back
In the deserted fairgrounds
One crisp spring night
The moon is low
Large; orange behind the thready
Grey clouds. It is just after dusk
And the stars are few
And precious. This once
I see them all, and no one
Lies in the fairgrounds
Save eye, savoring every smell
Left over from a long
Winter, and the silence-
The silence, on gravel
Under a perfect moon.
