A second look: trees
stand stable in darkness
and nothing
comes between them
except for an odd
squirrel, or perhaps
rat, dashing between
houses. You seem alone
in a mature world uncaring
about machinations among
a killer elite of old men
and their narrow-brained
minions but on this dark planet
there are people fishing
elsewhere, making love
elsewhere, uncaring
elsewhere — speaking
different languages, touching
in ways usual to them and
unusual to you. Your second look
gives a more seasoned response.
You’re going to be fine. Even
when you die at last, your body
falling into dark between trees
and whispering its last,
you are going to be fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T