Of the majesty of men and women
Riding colt happy in a box since birth
On towards death and life and death again
All ride the horizon path
Inside murals exquisite glow
Each a facsimile of lands long past
Memories gilded to be memorable
Bright familiar static comfort
Outside cankered leaf-springs sing
Box bobbing over unplanned roads never repaired
Dynamic landscape tumbles past
Never to be seen again
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Europe [The 72d and 73d Years of These States]”)
Life Immense 