I’m past obscuring that ruckus fact.
I might even think, how many places?
where have I been, a self-measurement.
a church bell rings. but not here.
there, two birds in a bush. maybe three.
I wait. patiently. but the cat makes no noise.
neither does it want my gaze.
is that water? too far I think. or maybe rain.
geese are not shy of being heard. they make
mark a certain time of day. then depart.
or the ferry whistle competing with the fog.
OK, that’s rain. no doubt this time.
crickets get the last word.