On A Razor's Edge We Live Poem by Steven Federle

but gazing into bright desert space
we see endless highways, distant
mountains we never reach,
sharp hills, steep cliffs
receding
as we move closer,

closer,
to the pacing sun
creasing dark canyons
casting amber light
into the gauzy sky,

yet our dark dreams trouble
faint stars and reeling planets
throwing wide nets over
haunted, lost souls

when, morning at last,
we begin again
pursuing the tumbling edge
of this turning globe

and we believe that
it will never end, will never
end,
will never
end.