Equal Night

A furrow in the cloudless sky
they extended the empty graveyard to make room
a white fence, yellow dust of rain
the lighted steeple pierces the darkness

A last night of summer
draws on wearily and I’m driving far away
detached mind, a machine functioning
independent past the speed traps, and checkpoints, empty lights

The carcinogenic rain didn’t bury him
the lightweight dressed in a volunteer uniform
helped to bear the load in its absence
the absence of reason in the hollow eating away of memory

And what would I say
it’s just the equinox
and I’m perpendicular to the sun
whichever way that is

Standing upside-down and balanced carefully
the hollowed dead metal sound
clasps close and lock forever
soundless

Cleaning the sidewalk street
walk it up and back toward the sculpted bridge of lights
sitting side by side and speaking about death
the dead so far away

Scaffolding below
turning over with the lonely sound of trains passing in the darkness
the rattle close by, strange faces
invisible behind night’s flint blinds pulled closed

With autumn comes the sound of leaves
grating on the cobbled streets of discarded books
their bindings loose, faded by the sun
sun stripped trees

They buried him by an Indian
who beat him hurriedly to the grave
one foot in, looking behind
the same, each day a tired progression on three feet

What rhythm to beat out the waning summer?
and do they know
wandering below
ditching the dying season too soon?

The granular decay of time
just grates away
and he’s buried
and I drive, driving home.