And now the hurricane comes after the earthquake. It's only for one thing, one certain thing!

The phone calls made, the lines of age and cynicism emerge deeply on the surface of the face.

For the lack of sleep, the glowing building in the mist, the barking dog, a mainstay siren.

The memory of riding in a van somewhere. This catalog of life,a whistle in the dark, a siren.

The hurricane approaches, while the valley sleeps,- awake, howling something fierce.

The full moon,- invisible. A medieval thought. This echoing intimidation that keeps our notice.

Sleep on now, the fuzzy light protruded into the darkness and if you will, take them, that is, and this is what the visible is and does.

Thats the nature of the thing you see.