The winding straightaway
flees like a comet’s tail
a wedge across basin to a distant range.
Down here is my marble head
of many basins seeing itself
from the side blinking and breathing
like the wind outside, rock
that’s not yet stone, just
stardust, perhaps water
as a mist giving slight hope
against evil of nothingness.
I’ll rise another day turned
in another direction
toward the same quest,
unwinding myself, glad
to have held the infinite
rope to forever.