THE DESTINATION

a hawk soars above a rocky clearing
the air between the anthill and the tree, the tree and the meadow

a distant car whips dust across the frozen desert highway.
the sound between the hammer and the steel, the drumming in my ears and the roaring in my heart.

a fire crackles, warming a pot and stove
the warmth moves from wood to water, from my blood to yours

the ashes stir in the early hours.
its almost impossible to tell, but a change has taken place.
we are no longer moving, yet the world still passes by