driving along thick ice and tamped down snow,
passing horses and a stray grey cat,
i slow down at an expanse of farmland,
roll my window down, as the music hums softly in the background,
and take a big, cold breath of a Pennsylvania morning in February
The sun sets on the tracks turning them into straight
lines of salmon steel reflecting the day’s end.
We pause at that inverted “v” where perspective
tricks us into thinking we’ve come such a very long way.