Their tails coil in a field where there is no wind,
no sound, no breath. We call this nature,
long after it has died, risen as fields full of wheat
sown for no one. I could walk forever without you
so I will, but today you follow me,
serenade a secret tale in my long lost ear.
I have heard it before, have told this song
to go away and for you to never play it again.
Yet again you play, so I must listen,
you give me no choice so I deliriously obey.
Such is life, I am told how creatures multiply
in a field of my imagining. Their shrieks bathed in moonlight
again and again and again. For this, all this,
I do not sleep. Have been told to count
what I do not see. I am counting intangibles
for you here, and I there.