FOLLOWING the road coming out of my mouth into a universe made of forgetting remembrance seeming solid though no more so than a chunk of ice which must surely melt in one of the fires the road for the lost running alongside a stream rock wall opposite rocks staggering under each other's weight moss on them starts of trees making use of any crack all to fall forgotten or be burnt and the ashes blown the way out is lost the way back is lost too the lodgings so few the castaways so many look to the starlings gathered from so far to go so far they hold together as they turn one shape of the flock melts into another their cries crowd on each other tenacious following distance burning inside