Invisible

A goat grazes in a field with dying
grass and doesn’t blink its eye
that looks just like an hourglass.
A kite shaped like a man is let go and its
shadow expands across the earth
until its projection is colossal
like the clouds that carry storms
across the ocean.

Entire clearings are torn up by the simple
shoes of those who gather there
to hear the songs that call them
from the radio. They never sound
the same but they are close enough,
and with all the lights and noise
you can exist without a thought
about the future.

Chrome trailers are simply dry
places to hold on to each other.
The weight of all the breath
in the air is like dense fog
you can see through,
and it haunts you with the times
you felt invisible.