Magic Beans

it went silent upstairs
should I be concerned, he

isn’t watching a movie
at this moment, the ceiling creaks with shoes’
ambivalence, back

and forth
on time’s fence the neighbor
of a cow-pasture in the grass-fields
of a man’s hearing aids, wonders
when the moon

light will reappear and present
to him
from a cabinet, a non-secretive secretive

handful of medicine,
and extend those beans of sleep towards his broken-fading-shadow

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