Meridian
I am one of many
hurtling along the interstate.
We—all of us—
proceed in one direction.
All of us hurtling towards
an assortment of goals.
All of these along the
same ribbon of asphalt.
No matter the import
we have given our own personal goals,
and there across the expanse of meridian,
those not so different from us
have chosen goals
the exact opposite to ours.
The exact opposite.
The exact opposite and yet,
this does not qualify our concern.
Nothing outside this glass, metal,
rubber and plastic carriage concerns us.
We are in transition.
Everything else is peripheral.
And I? I am their peripheral.
All that we share is the meridian.
Asphalt to asphalt and
what we have between us
is nothing.
Nothing in common.
No.
No, today is different.
Today there is something in the meridian.
There, a half mile distant.
There, within the expanse
of asphalt to asphalt… something moves.
Something we are not to be allowed to ignore.
There,
within the meridian,
is a dog.
Somehow,
a dark long hair collie
has become lost within
the forty-yard limbo
between this way and that way.
Between this way…
and that way.
Here, there is no direction.
Still approaching from a quarter mile distance,
I can discern the dog's movement
back and forth across the meridian.
First this side, then that side.
The traffic is extremely heavy
and consistent.
There are no pauses.
There is no escape.
I can see from the dog's gait of walk
that it's been doing this for some time.
And still I watch it.
This side,
pause,
consider;
that side,
pause,
and repeat.
How did it get here?
Here I am now.
Here I am.
One of many.
My mere passing
an act of cruelty I have
no control over.
Here now,
I am past and a
quarter mile down the road.
Here now,
I stand before you.
Here now,
within my mind,
a dog turns and paces,
turns and paces.
You tell me.
How many turns is too many?
How many turns
before the paces proceed
forward and outward
across asphalt?
Ó99 Jack David Hubbell
No comments:
Post a Comment