The Big Mist

A white darkness covers the hills in the distance.

There is a white mist in the distance and I can no longer make out the hills from the sky.

Every day, it gets closer and closer

And I can see the prairies disappearing.

Where are the hills that held my valley?

Once, I had hills. One good day, I heard rivers

And mountain streams in the woods.

Now, when I return to the same place, it is quiet.

A long time ago, I thought I would walk out in the east, and after the great forests and lakes,

Between cities, and old rest stops

I would find a great place with many

Bustling people and movements.

Perhaps I’d sleep there, while the

Rush of the night sounded

And yellow lights flashed in the window.

I do not know if there are still bears beyond my big horizon, which is so close.

Because I do not think there are

Any in this little space.

Just as I was earning my foresight

The future dispersed.

I suppose that must be how it works.