June 19, 9:42–9:53 p.m.
In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Clear
No wind 
Warm and dark
Wet hair



June 30, 9:20 p.m.
In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Burning forests in Quebec
Smoke choked the birdsong

July 10, 9:20–9:30 p.m.
In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Wet knees
Flash flood watch
Paused rain
Let the clouds open
New lost dog sign
Hung on the tree:
We miss her

July 11, 9:18–9:29 p.m.

In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Everything is sharp
Now that the rain cleared
Sometimes I walk with my eyes closed

July 24, 9:19–9:24 p.m.
In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Clear
Windless
Nondescript like rest



August 9, 9:01–9:08 p.m.
In the field above town
Knees in the grass
Clear
Got there late
The very last light
Wrapping around the smell of grass


August 11, 9:00–9:05 p.m.
In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Crushed cans roadside
Hemlock shade
Drunk drivers in the shade
The pickups don’t slow for legs
No birdsong tonight 

July 30, 9:13–9:22 p.m.
In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
When the days are this long I feel mocked
Just let me sleep and turn transparent
No birdsong tonight

September 12, 8:03–8:11 p.m.

In the field I sleep near
Knees in the grass
Cloudless
Dumb and humid
Summer holding on by the teeth for a bruise