The Short View

No army’s busy shelling
This village in this canyon.
The day slides down a long slope

That near the solstice matches
The trajectory of sun.
This is a coincidence

Of perspective, not the work
Of prehistoric peoples
Constructing stone calendars.

The light strikes a gray daybed
In a bare room, gilding dust.
The children have left the house.

It’s peaceful, and it’s quiet,
And there are no bombs. This is
Coincidence, perspective.