Lanes of sky slag between telephone lines.

Broken roads burning off the day’s
lingering heat.

Clouds, dishes of smoke,
unveiling the pieces
of shriveled blue atmosphere
above the blind plains.

The wind blew through
the rain-warped farmhouses
like an unexpected visitor
awaited for many grey centuries.

A last offering of light
before extinguishing itself
to the bleak promise of sleep.

Night deepening its hue
in its hollow wake,
holding the hours of a moon
turning on its crooked hinge
of stars distanced by years…

The beginning of a voice strung
through endless wire…

(1990-91-University of New Hampshire)