The condition of being
all but dead
is a great thing:

As the garden path
opens
on the field

Whoever said
because there’s no one
out there,
there is reason
to despair?

The thunderhead
you see
sailing over the field,
purple, redoubling,
is your own
anxiety.

Buy fish
for Sunday dinner
as if you were
a child:
be certain
your money
is in your pocket.

You may try
to get lost
for fun.

Listen,
you can hear
the frost stealing
off the hill.