Outside of Sight

Mountain light exchanges snow
For water light, windy days
In a bright and windy spring

As if even the weather,
Like the creatures, were freer
In this miracle season

When the humans find themselves,
Fear themselves, restrain themselves,
Increasingly placed offstage.

This may be a fallacy.
This may be data-driven.
The mice-like souls among us

Who always preferred quiet,
Empty amphitheaters,
Still slip out among the deer

And the jackrabbits darting
Already more frequently
Across the emptier roads.

Oh, we’ll get caught. We’ll get caught
And sent scurrying back home,
If we’re lucky and not crushed.

The bigger actors retreat
To their grand country estates,
Well-armed to shelter in place,

Ready to shoot rabbits, deer,
Or mice on sight, whatever
It takes. But for the passing

Moments before whatever
They take, heavens, just drink this—
Black lava bluffs swept with light,

Not a single contrail in the sky,
No sound louder than wind in the pines,
Not one other idiot in sight.