I'm back at the old canal waiting for the sunrise to sneak its way through the lovely chaos of clouds making the beginning of the day difficult and fascinating. The sap of my veins hasn't dried up quite yet. Summer still has some blood flowing in it, and before it's over I'll break open the sky's lock to find the red horizon. The canal will continue to flow a while longer from its river source far upstream until they shut it off and let the sprinklers run dry and the backyard gardens wither. Until then, I continue to wait for the promised information behind the clouds, for a clearing of sky where you and I will happen upon the dawn come round again.

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