Marfa I

Leaning into the evening
I cast myself over asphalt
Stretched flat into the horizon.
The setting sun douses the clouds
To cast the sky in amber.
With the glow of a log turned ember
The day remembers its glory
As it prepares for death.
Mountains surround like pallbearers
Dignified, dressed in sedate shades
Sentinels of darkness that support
And blazon their dying lord,
Who, in his final flourish,
Anoints their brows.

In his absence
The mountains preside over evening
While the moon hides herself and weeps.
She fills the sky with her tears
To show us the beauty in grief,
And we trace our destinies
In her patterns of loss.

Darkness gallops over me.
I do not know where I go.
I lean into the road and
Expect only that it will end.
Lost on a black sea, a sailor
Will find his path home in the stars.
Westward I follow their decline
Seeking the end of the night.