I picture myself in an open field
on a night streaked with far-off civilization
I picture grasses stirred by wind
on a night blurred by summer
electing to let my surroundings speak alone
on a night of heightened remorse
electing a place for each stalk
moved like hands were passing atop them
electing to stay silent myself
moved by new wavelengths darker
the wind blows individuals they draw closer together
moved by the presence of absence
the wind blows through grasses
and space hums between each individual spear
the wind blows summer grass
and space enough to lie down
manifests in the far-flung rivulets of civilization
and space enough to be seen
manifests in the meadow gathering light
I picture myself saluting the distance grey-eyed a self
manifests in night time's wild blooming
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