We Can Not See The End, Until We Are In It

We Can Not See The End, Until We Are In It

1.
They instruct,
“The mountain is not far.”

2.
On a narrow highway with one hundred vehicles
I am a lone pedestrian.

3.
A thing has crept into my boot
with its prickly nature, a sea urchin
desperate for warmth.

4.
I slouch and drag my way
through a flatland with hollow soil.

5.
Praying, I bend forward as the breeze
presses me sharply to turn back.

6.
They do not understand.

7.
The mountain is moving; if I do not make it,
it shall sink headlong into the horizon.

8.
A windmill tilting at me,
eating at my still forming self.

9.
I’ll carry all I can with me.

This poem was first published in Lunaris Review in April 2017. This is its first time appearing anywhere else.  

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