Small (fret)

Water painting rocks
in wet smooth laps
clouds turn to dogs
and back into clouds
again comes the train
whistling for something
long and low puffing hard
over a land that elastics
itself around

you are standing in a field
playing air guitar
lost in the beat of a track.

In

The clock drips 10:
17 lights below the door
begin to tremor

soon his footsteps
outweigh
she walks from room

to room switching off
everything that once held
light tenderly in

small -
small hands.