Waking
the alley
grows thin
in the face of the moon
my eyes close
so I can look
backward
the road
pressed between clouds
opens its palm
of flashing rabbits
and deer
my body comes down
hurling like a star
the alley
grows thin
in the face of the moon
my eyes close
so I can look
backward
the road
pressed between clouds
opens its palm
of flashing rabbits
and deer
my body comes down
hurling like a star