Where I started that night left the ring of the day behind.
Awake all night through
windings of roads and headlights flashing by,
solitary distant lights of farms hovering, then fading past.
One stop, waiting in the darkness for the stars to fall,
one by broken one from the Dakota sky,
but they did not.
I drove on.
Distance collapsing into time.
And time arriving with me to the peculiar brown dawn of dust.
And then the dust giving way to juniper
and a blue streak of river.
And though you, and the next blank line ask me,
I cannot speak the why of it.
Only this, distance collapsed into time,
and I moved with it.