In the late dark of the parking lot, the lights shine from above.
Only the moon is there, hanging quarter full.
Workers in blue prepare for tomorrow.
Flat black pavement lays everywhere slowly releasing the sun's heat.
Perfect for bikes.
A waking truck engine nearly threatens this crickets’ July night.
Fireworks are tested in the far distance.
I walk along the wall. One brick wide. Balancing wings outwide.
Tiny nymphs buzz & light on the hairs of my forearm.
Balance on such a wall in Idaho,
where I’ve never really been.