Triad

Above the city
Above the mountains
Floats a long galaxy of a cloud
Soft microcosm of our Milky Way
Disappearing.

The night smells of mesquite
Wind blows leaves
Eyes rust in redness
Growing older keeps me awake at nights.

Silence, alone, is comfortable, like
Meeting strangers, is living, after
Drinking the last beer in the refrigerator.