I am like a pair of headlights on a lonely lane,
bright eyes fixed on the middle distance.
What lies beyond the radius of my gaze
is only darkness. I know where I have been,
but the destination and the very route I take
and each stop along the way—
and how many seats are filled in me? and to whom
is given the captaincy?—
I fancy I know from day to day,
but my only clues are the scenery,
the ease of the roads or the rough terrain,
the gentle hand of the driver at the helm
or the violent turns when another takes the wheel.
This is day 34 of LABIA MUNDA, a series of forty poems during the forty days of Lent.