by Kevin T McEneaney
You see sunlight on steel rails and glance up
to see an image mirrored in lake where
three granite boulders dance like dice across
a discarded sky as you fix your eye
on a banded birch to your right swaying
to tremulous breezes thrown up by earth’s
revolutions in retina of sun
burning mildly on your forehead as you
prepare to enter a walled mountainside
through that dark, dreamless tunnel we all find
far from the diaphanous diagram
of life as penned in parallel lines
by memory not quite in full control
of eyesight, those endless rails, and lost lake.
