Black trees with branches outstretched like tentacles against the ringed glow of the harvest moon. Land and sky blurred a gradient of blue-gray on
Friday dusks, three friends watched a horse fence clip down like dominoes, a ray of bleached barn and brush of vineyards. Wrinkling the map
is the shop on G where you sell your baubled do-rags, huge yellow hoops, leather jackets slumping with time, trading them for new eccentricities: