The moon glow

yellow-white at 3am through my kitchen window

the chirp and tweet not long after

when the earth is ripe

the men arriving

tools and straps and big trucks tackling the job

I alone can not manage

the couple passing

quietly at first then with those voices that are only here

only heard in this southeast

the colors dancing off the homes along MLK Avenue as I walk the morning light to the library the post the favorite coffee shop

I call it God.

You can call it anything

or nothing.