Tuesday 12 February 2013

Moving

Get me going faster
to where it is I'm going,
in no direction at all,
in these
arbitrary territories,
the landscape human
when not broken
by nature's writhing embrace,
tentacled trees and an
undergrowth like an earthen maw.

To be swallowed in the
human world, or
a better world?
Which one? Or 
is there a compromise?
Then how shall we peel our eyes?
Or is there no correcting sight?

No, the night must be pierced
by our two headlights
as we move slowly down
this country road,
startling the deer as
they peer from
their wooded clothes.

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