In the long valleys between
The long-ridged mountains at noon,
If connectives are lacking
Roads vanish in dunes.
If the roads are swept from sight,
The long journey ends too soon.
To get to night needs music.
The roads know how high the moon.
Time is time to go away.
Even waiting moves the day.
People zoom about in cars.
Sparrows zoom in sparrow sprays.
These words that pave the distance,
These words that blanket the ways,
Contrive to make a new road
To June from nothing but May.
The length between here and there,
Ten thousand songs on the air,
Never measures out a space.
Journeys are never so bare.
A space is never measured
By nothing with time to spare.
Roads wearied with being here.
Tonight we’re finally there.