a bright desert sun in the late western sky reflects from the road and into my eyes. jet streams sweep bright vaporous twists into thin shear swirls and cirrus wisps. the highway vanishes into the far distant blue- as i speed to the west will i vanish too?...
05/27/2011
I especially like the ending of this poem. The last four lines speak of a fade-to-nothingness we often feel on stage, in life, and indeed in the theatre of both.
