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.
