something is wrong thereีs no horizon.
the road unwinds out of a desert glare
barely in time to meet the wheels of this bus
--or is it a taxi I am riding in?
the driver turns his head
his lips move but there is no sound his face
reminds me of someone that I think is dead
Is he asking me to drive? How absurd!
I wait for him to speak again; instead
I hear the song of an insistent mockingbird
and raise my head.
The clock says 3 a.m. I burrow into a book.
I do not want to see that road again
unwinding from a sunless glare
outside of time and place.
I do not want to face again
that half-remembered face.
Once more I sleep and wake but now
a customary light invades my room.
Under the eaves outside an anxious dove
whitters and darts and dives
among the leaves of the wisteria.
Has she forgotten where she put her nest?
Calm down, I tell the frantic bird
as I get out of bed and turn
to address my Nemesis.
Hey You, who lie in wait for me
everywhere.
Pick one place and I will meet you there.
What face will you wear?
