ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
9/8/09
towers and arms of the wind farm
rise through and over the fog
below them the farmer's hopes
still lie deep in his dirt
the traffic sweeps along in its excitement
going north or going south it is all
the same the same hurry the same
arrangements of distance to from between
here we are in motion with the others
but here keeps moving forward with us
and there is never a point of arrival
but an animal we pursue towards its horizon
I should say the horizon is an animal
that is always faster than we are
always larger and better fed for it can live
on only the straining of our eyes