I was asleep that night
The night when its fatal wings beat a path
Through the covered bridge
The one that they used to cross in their tired Fords.
When I rolled over it had passed through the bridge
Stepping so as not to rattle the timbers
Littered with graffiti of love and times.
As its breath leveled stalks of corn and
As it made its way past the wind-worn barn
I was just beginning to unfurl my eyes to day’s novelty.
Then its brisk tail beat a code upon the silo
But I had only started to roll out the stiffness in my limbs.
And when I awoke, I had been engulfed by a hazy plume
And silently I receded back into yesterday.