BETWEEN TWO VANISHING POINTS
A long row of telephone poles stand in a line
For a while I'll watch their shadow
Make an arc across the prairie.
A thousand sundials when I have no use for time.
So many miles I'll never know.
Like a painting done by Salvador Dali.
Past each horizon
The future is unfurled
IÕm standing between
Two vanishing points
On this endless Highway
Of the world.
Cars appear and disappear as they speed past my thumb
IÕm standing by a road sign
Where travellers have etched their names
I seldom get impatient since I know my ride will come
There are many names before mine
Many more will do the same.
Past each horizon...
© 1972 Stefan des Lauriers