So you’re walking down the …
One “.” at a time, wings, like scare quotes, folded…
The dots down a salt-flat superhighway
To the horizon line across, and inwards,
Where is the end of the world?
When does that line open up and we spill beyond, cupped in a question,
When do we say rest?
You with wisdom say that walking is a controlled fall,
Alas there is no falling without ground, no fear,
In that sudden “V” shape birds make with open wings, when
Out of the darkness cracks light in the distance,
When all that we know, held in our hearts, is put behind us,
Are you to be left behind too?