Somewhere

I went for a walk in the sweltering heat of September this evening.

We went for a walk along the soccer fields, where the night is lit up by great klieg lights at the tops of tall creosote-soaked poles, where the tires of speeding cars and trucks scream on the highway like jet planes making a final pass, where dead grasses and choking itchy-weeds grow along the chain link fence row.

The whines of tires on the highway. Blazing lights on wooden poles. Choking weeds at the periphery of the fields. This is where we went. In the blazing white light. In the roar of the traffic. Along the weedy fence line with litter blown in. This is where we went.

Somewhere there is a pitch-black, star-filled sky. Somewhere there is a pond with bull frogs sitting among the reeds in the shallow water. Somewhere there is a place that isn't like this. Somewhere. Not like this time. Not like this place. Somewhere. But that somewhere it is very far away.

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