My eyes are tired.
I hardly make out the sky.
Trees are obstacles.
Birds move too fast to follow.
Autumn nears.
Everything looks dry between blinks.
I cannot read time.
With some wonder I realise
my grandmother in myself.
Then I hear it’s time for lunch
and a spoon feels pleasant.
Vinegar in the greens bites back.
I laugh at a rock, a cat,
the sun, god.
