Towards Exile
Jul 23, 2017 · 1 min read

Crossing Illinois at midnight,
headed east,
ahead of the storm front
churning in the darkness
that swallows
the road behind me forever.
Every mile is a journey that is
just beginning,
going somewhere in the flat land and in the
incomplete vastness of this life that is linked to the promise
of something greater than the distance of the eyes.
The whole land going backwards, I carry my wounds
into the blackness, into exile.
