“The long nothing” is a stretch of road between here and there.
It scares me good, because I think I am lost in a loop that will never end.
It would be a nightmare, if not for Verdant Reverie.
That is, the act of getting lost in the grasses and fields,
The trees and marshes and forests that line the nothing.
My lover's hand in mine is all that tethers me to the world of roads and cars,
But my soul is with the kestrels, with the armadillos and raccoons.
I am in the long grasses, the short grasses,
In the willow and the oak.
I am dancing with the Spanish moss,
I am nesting among the water birds.
But then, the nothing ends.
And with it, my reverie.