When the Screaming Ceases

This is a country far from any emotion.
The people here are transparent,
except for their eyes.
They can step inside each other
to experience the other person’s dreams,
but, like stepping into the room
on the other side of a mirror,
nothing’s changed.
And when the night wind comes & blows
all their eyes into the sky like stars,
I look down & see myself
float through a large oak.
Its rings pass through me
& out again,
year after year after year
without feeling a thing.