I drove towards the burning bright, glinting off glass was every mistake I’d ever given time and additional thought, the familiar winding road became a catalyst for visitation, and as I felt the tug to look at the rear view mirror for what was in chase, I shattered the setback, set forth in a flurry of milkweed down, floating freely with no direction, afternoon sun setting fire to the green of grass and leaves… …I lay beneath the oleander lances, the evening rain a slow free form rhythm, building intensity, the clouds in methodical Rorschach morph, gray on gray on white trumpets, dripping a deadly sweet cleanse, lacing my vision and speech in the toxicity of nature’s beauty, giving reach to the hedge that divides the living from the dead… …Under windows of stars and a near absent moon, a scream escaped from the ruins of gables and stone, an answer seeking its question, my head awakened with language in a whispered reverse, my body aware of a beastly hunger, the wind calling forward…I tread…

E.A. O'Connell