I’m following an interrupted flight path
of thick, black, wiry lines
which crisscross inside my mind,
like aerial railroad tracks
that travel for miles and miles —
endlessly from post to post,
and pylon to pylon.

Tirelessly on and on, I keep flying
toward the last tower of power
until there, on the unreachable horizon,
I see that shimmering golden light.

Editor: Erynn Crittenden