Something Over There
There is something over there,
ahead of the mossy groves and broken sticks.
Past the trickling stream: something
almost gleams.
Take out your glasses and look over there,
behind that hollowed trunk and withering leaf.
Below bent, weeping branches: something
almost leaping.
Why don’t you tread over there?
over the wire barbed and rabbit carcass.
Towards the unstable ground: something
never found.
