I have nothing to offer but

memories about 
all the cicada affairs,
and the fireflies 
have also grown foreign.
 
Once back in Kentucky, I cooked 
two soups in my sleep.
Did I know then where the
leftovers were going?
 
Shifting. Out here, 
we’re always shifting.
Serving up food for
our Jersey broods.
 
We can’t take out
what’s gone in, but we can
always add more salt.