Keep your eye on the line between land and sky, where the sun settles in for bed, the last of what we can see and yet as we move, so does the line, revealing more of the world to us
I can see it there
stretched out
on the horizon
all of the choices
and their inevitable conclusions
my fingers cold with anxiety
or what could be called excitement
the canvas is blank and we slowly fill it in
I hope by the end of the process
that horizon looks mighty splendid
and I relax, elongated and content
at the culmination of all those little things
that make me me
that make you you
the canvas
the horizon
stretches out, beautiful, ugly
all things
forever
Keep your eye on the line between land and sky, where the sun settles in for bed, the last of what we can see and yet as we move, so does the line, revealing more of the world to us
I can see it there
stretched out
on the horizon
all of the choices
and their inevitable conclusions
my fingers cold with anxiety
or what could be called excitement
the canvas is blank and we slowly fill it in
I hope by the end of the process
that horizon looks mighty splendid
and I relax, elongated and content
at the culmination of all those little things
that make me me
that make you you
the canvas
the horizon
stretches out, beautiful, ugly
all things
forever
It was raining in the distance. Dark whisps hung like stalactites in the amber colored sky. The sky that was the horizon.