Today was all kites and ice cream
but the night hosts all my clandestine operations, so many efforts
to leap on a train I haven’t heard coming yet but trust
is on its way
I imagine my future as a wide bright field, like a second death
involving no strain or money and little futility but lots of trees
And through their leaves, the moon
And beneath the moon, the sound of the highway
singing lone vehicles on their way to the next adventure,
and the next