On the other side of midway
Thought paints a line
And the mist falls it falls
But it is made of air
Tell me is it really there
If I catch it at burgeoning
Perception slants
It has a sound that you can touch
It is strong enough to hold me
Above my own mirror
So I don’t break in either place
The roar of travel has stopped here
The wings are in my ears
And the mist falls it falls
The end of this is near
The places I have been holding dear
I want to be here in this sideways slant
Locked across the nub of time
Sliding past the dreary dirt
A cup under the flow of stars
But it is not my time to stay
I still have debts to pay and warm wood waits
Holding my place on the grass
Watching the bright of dragonfly stop above the pond
And then move on
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