Above and Below

Stand at the foot of the hill.

Gaze at the crest as it looms above,

Silhouetted against the night sky,

Suddenly light in comparison.

A streak of cloud, the rounded edges of treetops.

To feel small in the furrows between the tall corn stalks

To feel broad and expansive in the dampened dark of night

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A Late Summer’s Night

Crisp air punctuated by the smell of pine

Crickets in the thickets of roadside grass

Their calls cycling faster and faster as I pass, like a card in bicycle spokes

Highbeams illuminate the trunks of trees lined up like the walls of tunnels

Unclear whether the fog films the windshield inside or out 

In the cool of night, summer falls away

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