take any exit that leads
beyond the line of trees
that guards this highway
like occupation soldiers

past construction zones
and horn blast hysteria
speed trap surveillance
and brake light surprise

toward the low-lying sun
that marks the horizon
like a lidless eye
or better still – fly

for the sake of rising
above the power lines
and glide around awhile
until we’ve had our fill

of land and sea and sky
and find a place to land
in the paint-peeled rafters
of an ancient fading barn

or up on blocks, perhaps
in a dilapidated car
let’s sink down deep
into the sleek back seat

like a pair of nesting pigeons
considering the significance
of a universe that holds
the last two secret stars

originally published in Forth Magazine