The Road In Is Not the Same Road Out

The perspective is unfamiliar.

We hadn’t looked back driving in

and lingered too long

at the viewpoint. It was a prime-of-life

experience. Many things we know

by their effects: void in the rock

that the river may advance, void

in the river that the fish may advance,

helicopter in the canyon

like a fly in a jar, a mote in the eye,

a wandering cause. It grew dark,

a shift change and a shift

in protocol. To the surface of the road

a trail rose, then a path to the surface

of the trail. The desert

sent its loose rock up to see.

An inaudible catastrophic orchestra

is tuning, we feel it as a pressure

on the brain. In the day

separate rays fall so thickly

from their source we cannot perceive

the gaps between them, but night

is absolute, uniform and self-

derived, the formerly irrelevant

brought to bear, the progress

of its native creatures unimpeded.

We have a plan between us, and then we

each have our own. Land of the five

corners, the silent partner, 500 dollars

down, no questions, the rental car

stops at the highway intersection, a filthy

violent storm under the hood. It yields

to traffic from both directions.

It appears it could go either way.