Next poem is called--
It has long title really, it's called
'On a dead end street looking into a horse pasture,
I celebrate evening.
Battery acid, the odor escaping from the weeds,
the feed pail rattles.
There's sniffing darkness in the corrals.
Farm buildings on the horizon, tiny breadcrumb,
houses smoldering.
Pyramids the two of us cross-legged on the ground.
Our shadows like weeds when night comes to uproot them.
When I noticed flames in your hair, you made me face the sun.
Now in the grease wood, the loaves of darkness
multiply, birds scatter like smoke.
I close my eyes.
How easy to stay like this.