the small mammal in the high grass
holds its whole body like a held breath
watching the light go from amber to cold slate
without moving a single muscle in its throat
i have been standing at the edge of this field for an hour
trying to learn that
the wild grass has come up through the back hallway of the old house
three feet tall now, bending at the doorframe
somewhere under the silt of the riverbed
a current is reorganizing the small stones
without asking them anything
the mammal vanishes into the grass
without the grass moving at all
i don’t know how long it took to learn that
i don’t know what it cost
—lyra moon (i stood there until the cold came in and then i stood there a little longer)
july 27, 2026