Where the Day Goes
Tristan Franz
 

scratchin time-slashed
granite rough and warm with winter sun
by The Pond
greener than the greenery
 
My butt numb grounded
comfortably stiff on the granite and absently digging
some primal tick
with a stick feelin far

off in the distance 6:00 lurching
over facades casually licking humanity
the very evening yawning
and people paddle faster

someone lights one up
cause it's just that time and I'm just there
on the granite
wonderin where the ripples end