Owls rest in the vines of wild grapes.
Eucalyptus trees shimmer.
And from the minaret, a voice.

Each life has its moment. The sunflowers
lift their faces toward dawn
as milk cows bellow in a field of trash.

I have seen him in the shadows.
I have watched him in the circle of light
my rifle brings to me. His song
hums in the wings of sand flies.
My mind has become very clear.