ant5

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a new kind

of quiet that’s all

you get

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he rubs it

against my chin

the ruined side of his face

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the frog stops

barely discernible

rain blown against tin

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I think of you

they’re just my

thoughts about you

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I go back into

the room to see

what I smell like

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in a break

in the dark clouds

what might be Jupiter

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he leans

into the wind

spider on a gas pump

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dawn

let loose the chickens

rush the goats

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grain undisturbed

I worry about

the mouse

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they join

farther down the valley

two trails of chimney smoke

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