Trees clad in Summer garb nourish and muffle sounds that we cannot or will not hear – like a train in the night,
Mechanical movement in metal presses down on Rail-
Gravity in locomotion without living fire.
Still we sleep untroubled in hammocks unattached to trees –
swaying and rocking in the winds of illusion’s lullaby…
Resting in the numbness and dumbness of mistaken identities
that curl up inside whatever we believe.…