So many times I've thought:
This is where my spine will
bond with the roots of trees

      then I'd move on

continuing the sow the
groundless illusion of place.


Late September on the cusp of dawn, I walk past an AA meeting, as seen through an open door.
A woman stands in the light of the storefront gym. The Mexican restaurant's sign blinks: OPEN.
Super-bright headlights cruise the main street, while horses wait in dark for their morning feed.

In the distance, two coyotes call to each other, giving voice
to the one
incalculable place.