So many times I've thought:
This is where my spine will
bond with the roots of trees.

Then I continue to sow
the groundless illusion
of place.

Late September on the cusp of dawn: a woman stands in the light of a storefront gym;
the Mexican restaurant's sign blinks: OPEN; super-bright headlights cruise the street;
the shadows of horses stamp their feet as they nerviously wait for their morning feed.

Close by two coyotes
give voice, to the one
incalculable place.