‘The wheel turns from sky to track’
In thinking that it travels
straight
it revolves about a heaviness unseen.
As evening comes,
a cadence changes—
echoes once unheard
are clear.
Sky-displacing
prominence of peaks;
steep-walled valleys
deepen.
Scarps sharpen.
Cage of contrast,
the thorn-tree speaks
in form.
Grain of sand,
long-shadowed
depth, beyond the
owning.
The wheel turns, from sky to track; at dusk
the rigour of the way is local and distinct.