Come night, and he crosses over. A beatific smile beams upon him as he traipses around on a horse with invisible reins. A gentle wind caresses his face and the overflowing tunic billows in all directions. The steed neighs.
morphine shots
beetles creep
into the spine
For a long moment they travel like a poem, rhythm set to an unknown melody. Vast, verdant pastures stretch before them and there is not another soul in sight. Not a human one, at least.
looking for signs
upturned frangipani
all along the path
He travels to the very end and turns back. All the land has receded. The horse and he stand on a few tufts of grass, surrounded by an eager, consuming sea.
tea dregs
remnants from a wanton
night
Excerpted from A Sky Full of Bucket Lists, Red River, 2021