It was dark and had rained.

The moon black for 3 days.

He walked  in  his hard shoes down the shiny carbon street and felt the wind from his left.

A deep quiet he could  float in.

There were birds in trees, squirrels locked tight in sleep and cats watching from their chins.

The bugs were even down, the ants quiet underground, still lifes with only their

wands swaying the air under the moist dirt.

There was too much to say. He could feel it, think it all, yet there was more.

Stars above with their strange planets of stranger bugs, critters and thinkers. Thinking of him as he thought of them.

Out there but all were in this. Even the dirt with the microbes and bacteria eating, excreting and exhaling.

Sure he was alone.

september 30.05