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Waiting threatens

A long quiet-
warm, close, still.
Like the hold at a breath’s end
before the trigger squeeze.
In the hills rocks loosen their beds
trees test their roots’ purchase.
The pasture grasses move
seed heads shivering
at no discernible passage,
between the quiet beasts.

Here in the doorless studio
I work to instal one lighting ring,
two way, the kitchen light mediated by a one way pull.
A working circuit enlivens a build,
its first performance,
a scene set
a world created,
an interior.

And now the rain
breaks the silence
curtaining the empty doorframe
to the world
where the martins hunt.

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