Jami Macarty

I am walking             without looking

over my shoulder        something indicative of a quality of coming night

                      measures

                                            the outward form of someone

                                                                             at a distance

sky obstructed

                      by hill’s middle-ground mound

tends

in crepuscular light to evoke

                                            animal’s spraying behavior

                      datura’s hallucinogen illicitly spiking air

mediums

                      carrying me through the unending field

where I walk the visible

                                    changing in composition

                                                                             to the invisible

as I go

                      wind weakens my knees

                      late-mating birds quote each other

                                    in August’s-coming grass

                                                                             in old-growth obscurities

these elements gather and insist

                                    gather the gap between should and is

a position within now

                                    which comes unpretentiously

as a truck’s timber load

                                    releases its straps

releases

                      something indicative of

                                                                             an honest dark