Lightning on the mountain. Looking down,
On the map, roads cut rock, all-at-once,
Not like rivers, rivers stride
Like legless reptiles
On the map, “You are here,”
Over the rice fields, in the distance
The animals look like flies
By river or road
They quickly change to buffalo
Andrew Nightingale grew up in the woods of New Hampshire and began writing poetry as a child. He holds a Masters degree in math from Loyola University Chicago. Now he lives with his family in Thailand and teaches math. He has also been published by Acent Aspirations. questionsarepower.org