Zenith Landing

Zenith 
at noon.           Back 
stairs wearing away 
nails driven through the frame 
across the landing in the sun 

a biting fly rests on the wall. 
Cloud bursts flood 
the storm drains, later in the day.       Amen 
in the surf.       In 

the shadow cone 
fix nadir and its sun. Along 
this line the fluent coast 

creates each shape again 
Breathe in       o son of man 

you do not need to leave 

the desert streets.