Tomorrow
Far off, it has begun to walk the planet,
first it must be buried in a nearby field,
while flights of dreams migrate
from unrealistic expectations.
Meanwhile,
worms' imperceptivity reshape reality.
Fresh perceptions
bloom like cherry trees in Death Valley
neglected vineyards are resuscitated
one vine at a time.
Tomorrow will show up darkly,
it may forestall or bolster,
we may only know for sure
when the roof of the sky is raised,
even so, night still roams somewhere
weeding out exhausted stems of light.
It is just diurnal time
dipping in and out of our eyes,
it’s only the ever displaced and ever prodigal
exchanging old and new testaments of hope
upon a circular racetrack,
one not at all of our making.
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