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Description
We are

The street lamp, carving light
through the vain dark midnight.
Our signal binds the curve
of the blue veined lamp post,
the pebble mirror puddle in the street,
and the street passed over
by hushed tires going somewhere.

We are

The insects, pinging bodies
off the warm smudged glass.
Our yearning pulls our hearts from
that distant dew dropped leaf,
the hollow energy of life,
and the ink thick skies passed over
by hummed wingbeats going nowhere.

We are the call.
We are the answer.

We.