KYLE SLEDGE

Underneath the overpass
Where nature intersects with industry
The man-made stream’s water strides
Steadily forward without ceasing once
To ponder where it’s going
While cars above clop along the concrete
Their drivers’ minds fret idly for futures
So far in the distance they don’t exist

We’re all at some place within
The beginning and the end of it all
And no one knows for certain
How the great mystery will be resolved
Whether fire rains from the sky
Tsunamis swallow the entire species
Or a Savior swaddles our souls in death
Humanity was a gift from the start

I sit atop a limestone
As lilac blooms tinged with gasoline fumes
Tickle both of my nostrils
A mockingbird flies to its secret nest
Hidden somewhere in the trees
Sunlight rests in between the cool shadows
The illumination fades around me
Vultures spiral in circles, riding winds