When they money came, in frighteningly pleasurable waves, they invested it wisely,
in a place dozens of miles from the crowding and the sheer fractured humanity of it all.

They lived as near nature as the sprinkler system permitted.

When the money left, flying south to warmer, Ponzi climes,
they watched the sun setting
into the mountains,
and counted ways in which
if they could do it all again,
they’d live where they could not see the stars at night.