I am on the road watching
an imaginary flood,
the river bringing tree parts,
headless fish.
 
Ask me where I was last night
and I’ll tell you
the dogs dwell out in the barn,
they cower and chew dust.
 
Turn the hourglass over.
It sifts every plea, our prayers,
the rain we sang for today,
the first Psalm.
 
Here is moonlight
ragged on the leaves
in the dying breeze.
 
I’ve drawn a line in red across the belly of spring.
A bus floats past reminding me I am always on the outside
wishing for a ride to the place
where we can water the grass.