JUST BEFORE NOON
Fierce little hawks follow
along the edge of the moment,
drawn by a dance in the woods.
Shiny metal planes, unsure of their purpose,
pursue elegant best guesses out of sight.
Decimal degrees pinpoint night’s ledger of dreams.
In the dry hills above town
those who don’t fit listen
for horns and the faint engines of commerce.
Just before noon
a old man gathers up his life
into a small bundle.
It has no solution, but everything is there.