night sky palpable, stars extinguished
rubbed out with clouds of soot and jet
the time of becoming time is at hand again
last entry, last codes, last gestures, time now
the train is leaving the station. the lantern
recedes into the distance; two distinct shadows
run in converging lines to horizon of ink that
extinguishes the opaque and invisible

we descend into a tunnel of illuminated earth
corona of light surrounds us, the revealed picture
is a tempest of frames flipping too fast, texture
of earth and mud. perhaps the moon is a stone
revealed in the bank of loam that nourishes us
we are spinners on a road we build this instant

motion is the message; we pass the earth
beneath us, motionless in a new land, we
conquer distance, wander lost, still blind
we replace ourselves with imagined brilliance
if time is not ours to command, light is
we have pictures to prove it

clouds race above us; gentle rains come
a ploughing to finish the task — for the sake
of the soil, for the sake of tomorrow; ready
to sleep, this matter complete, we cannot stay to
listen to the frozen creakings, splittings to come
our plans are made, we must dream the start