Friday, June 6, 2008

back to the head-pressed-to-glass
slept too much or not enough 
one of many nightime highways sailed, seas of unlit land
we are fast and near death 
nothing moves out this window 
a speck of light flickers on the horizon
then with conviction marks a point
we are moving forward, we are sure; we are alive

1 comment:

Elizabeth said...

You write so beautifully! sigh